Tracks in the Snow
by bravevulnerability
Summary: A collection of holiday themed prompt fills and one shots. Cover art by the wonderful Nadia.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I realize so many updates per day may be a bit excessive, but for Christmas, having all of the holiday themed prompts I've filled on tumblr over the last two years (and a couple I'll be filling this year as well) felt like a good and long overdue idea. So, of course, if you've already read those that have been previously published, I apologize and hope you don't mind seeing them again, but if not, I hope you enjoy and I'm wishing all of you the happiest of holidays!**

* * *

 _Prompt: "I'm your last customer on Christmas eve because it's only now that I've realised I have no wrapping paper."_

* * *

Kate shuts off the Christmas music, the light display out front, sighing in relief at the relative peace that comes with closing up shop at the end of the day.

That is, until a man comes skidding through the door at 4:59 p.m.

"Sir," she calls, watching in a mixture of amusement and annoyance as he races through the aisles of her mother's tiny holiday store, searching frantically for something on the mostly barren shelves. Last minute shoppers are always the interesting ones to watch, but she's been working for the last eight hours, spending the last three on her own so her mother could make her annual visit to the cemetery and be home in time to start their two person Christmas dinner. She doesn't have time for this. "Hey, we're closed."

The guy stops in the middle of reaching for one of the lone rolls of wrapping paper and she almost feels bad for the look of devastation on his face, before it brightens with what she's sure is a horrible idea.

"I'll pay twice the price of whatever I buy if you stay open for just five extra minutes," he begs, abandoning his quest for Christmas paper and coming towards her with his hands pressed together in an imitation of a prayer. "I was so sure I had wrapping paper left over from last year, but when I unloaded the box of Christmas supplies, I barely had enough to wrap one gift. So I promise, all I need is the wrapping paper and then I'm gone."

Kate bites her lip, already knowing what she's going to say, but he presses on before she can reply.

"Maybe you don't know me, but I'm an author, Richard Castle? And I could sign something for you or a friend," he suggests, so hopeful, but it's his name - a name she's certain she's seen before - that sparks recognition in the back of her mind and solidifies her decision. "Maybe make a nice Christmas gift for someone?"

"My mom," she murmurs, ducking behind the counter to retrieve the novel she's caught her mother reading whenever she's on break. "She's been a huge fan of yours ever since-"

The words die on her tongue and she swallows down the tragic end to that sentence, knowing Richard Castle doesn't want to hear her personal sob story on Christmas Eve. She's not in the mood to tell it anyway, but when is she ever?

"You can go ahead and grab you what you need," she states, dropping the book on the counter and restarting the electronic register she had just shut off before he came bursting through the door.

"Ever since what?"

Kate glances up, her brow furrowed at the sight of him still standing there, not having moved an inch.

"I thought you needed the paper-"

"It can wait," he says, striding towards her and stopping at the checkout counter, the only thing between them. "You were telling me something important."

"And then I changed my mind," she counters, nodding towards the shelf of paper. "Now, you said you would be quick, so grab the paper and go."

He frowns at her, but does as he's told, retrieving the final three rolls of festive paper from the shelf and laying them across the counter for her to ring up. She notices him take hold of her mother's book while she's busy with the register and she's too late to stop him from writing inside of it.

Kate huffs, guilt gnawing at her gut even though this was the deal. She kept her mom's shop open for five extra minutes, he signed her book, but he wasn't supposed to be so nice about it.

"My father was killed a few years ago," she sighs, tying up the long rolls of paper for him so he doesn't lose them in the hustle and bustle of the sidewalks. "Your books were the only thing that made her smile for a long time."

She lifts her eyes to see him watching her, his own soft with a combination of sorrow and concern, even a hint of understanding. It's such a refreshing change from sympathy.

"What makes you smile?"

The question throws her and for a moment, she's left staring into kind blue eyes without an answer.

"I haven't found it yet," she finally admits, lowering her gaze, but then his hand is on hers, giving her cold fingers a gentle squeeze.

"Maybe sometime I could take a shot at it."

He's smiling when she risks another glance at him and even through the stutter of her heart, her own lips slide upwards in response.

He's already succeeding.

"I hope you're able to wrap the rest of your gifts in time," she offers, retracting her hand from beneath his to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'll make it work," he assures her with a wink, gathering the wrapping paper in his arm. "I hope you have a wonderful Christmas, Kate."

"You too, Mr. Castle."

"Rick," he corrects, grinning at her from over his shoulder as he approaches the door. "Hope I hear from you soon."

Her brow creases, but he only nods towards the book near her hand before he disappears out the door. Kate reaches for it as soon as he's gone, flipping to the first page, immediately finding the words for her mother.

 _Your daughter is a life saver._

 _Merry Christmas!_

 _Richard Castle._

But it's the receipt she had lying on the counter, now stuck between two pages of the novel, that catches her attention.

His name, his number, and an opportunity for more all written in black ink on the white strip and for the second time that day, Richard Castle makes her smile.


	2. Chapter 2

_Prompt: "We're both Santa's elves for the mall's "Santa's grotto" this year."_

* * *

Kate Beckett in an elf costume is a dream come true.

The jolly green dress with the red velvet detailing hugs her slim figure so well, the candy cane colored tights accentuating her long, toned legs, and he can barely handle how cute she looks in the hat, the way the bell hanging from the tip of the headwear jingles every time she moves.

"Castle, we are undercover, stop ogling me," she mutters, smacking him with a piece of the candy cane decor lining the path to Santa.

"But you're an elf," he whispers back, as if she doesn't already recognize this. "A very hot elf."

"And so are you," she mutters, glaring at him from beneath her noisy, little green hat. "Now go stand with the suspect-"

"Santa," he corrects and ooh, he's going to get into so much trouble if he keeps pushing her buttons like this. But it's so much fun.

"Stick close to Santa," Kate growls, stepping in closer to him, her eyes sweeping over his lips. "And maybe, if you behave, I'll wear the elf costume again for you sometime."

Castle's eyebrows hitch to his hairline and Kate smirks, her eyes a vibrant green against the crimson and emerald of the costume as she adjusts the collar of his own uniform.

"Under very different circumstances," she adds, her voice far too sultry for where they are, and he almost lunges for her right then, but she anticipates his reaction, skirting around him towards the line of children waiting for their time with Santa the potential murderer.

His job is to escort the children off of Santa's lap, to hand them a candy cane, and wish them a Merry Christmas before returning to their waiting parent all while keeping an eye on their suspect. It's easy for the first hour, no trouble arising, and he's actually having a good time. He thinks the kids are enjoying him more than the unenthusiastic Santa they came here for, but halfway through the line of children, there's an upset on Santa's lap.

The little girl in their impatient Santa's lap is crying , babbling in a foreign language Castle doesn't understand, though he would bet money that it's Russian. The mother at his side is doing the same, both of them looking oh so helpless, looking at him as if he has the answers to their questions, and he panics, scrambling for his phone and the translation app he has stored away on it. But before he can retrieve the device, one of the mall cops is asking the crowd if anyone speaks the mother and daughter's language as the girl begins to cry harder, repeating the same unintelligible phrase over and over again as her mother tries and fails to console her. It's then that he sees Kate striding up from the back of the line, meeting his concerned gaze with a reassuring nod.

She greets the mother's eyes with a soft welcoming of words he doesn't catch and then lowers herself to the daughter's level at Santa's knee, murmuring gentle words to her, receiving a choked reply.

"It's her first Christmas away from home," Kate explains even though their Santa looks as though he could care less. "All she wants for Christmas is for it to feel like home."

His wife's eyes are turning glassy and his start to sting too when the little girl crawls from Santa's lap into her arms. His breath catches at the sight of it - his wife standing with the tiny girl clinging to her, Kate whispering more words he can't decipher into her hair and adding a comforting swaying to her gait as she comes towards them. He's caught glimpses of her interacting with the children for the last hour, but no other encounter caused his throat to swell like this.

"Cпасибо." He hears the mother say when Kate steps down from Santa's platform, returning the sad, homesick child to her mother. And he doesn't know much Russian, nothing more than a few words and phrases here and there, but he knows that one.

 _Thank you._

"Пожалуйста," Kate murmurs, stroking the girl's long dark hair, receiving a smile in return. "Все будет хорошо."

When mother and daughter leave, and before Kate is forced back to her station, Castle reaches for her arm.

"What did you say to her?"

Beckett offers him a smile that's tainted with sorrow, but a touch of hope as well.

"I told her that everything will be okay."

"Hey," he says softly, catching her fingers, feeling Santa giving them a curious glance. "I love you."

Her smile is bright like the lights decorating the grotto and she squeezes his hand.

"Love you too, now get back to work, head elf."


	3. Chapter 3

_Prompt: "I couldn't reach the Christmas decorations on the top shelf and you look tall so can you please help me?"_

* * *

Kate growls and lifts on the toes of her boots, cursing under her breath as her fingers grazed the strip of garland, but still, she can't retrieve the stupid, decorative piece from the top of the too high shelf.

Of course she was the one chosen to grab decorations for this last minute holiday party at the break room. She couldn't have been given the job of getting snacks or beverages, no, she got stuck with picking up goddamn decorations for a holiday that still scraped her heart raw.

Beckett huffs, glancing around the overly festive, holiday section of the store, searching for an employee, but her eyes land on a man instead. A very tall man who's already heading her way, so why not?

"Hey," she greets, forcing a smile as she grabs the stranger's attention and wow, his eyes are really blue and his smile is far more attractive than friendly. "Could you possibly give me a hand?"

"Of course," the man smiles and the butterflies in her stomach approve. "How can I help?"

"That garland up there," she says, nodding towards the sparkling green, pre-decorated wreath above their heads. "Can you grab it for me?"

The handsome man - no, he's more rugged than handsome, or maybe a bit of both, an extremely nice combo - steps up to the shelves of decorations and stretches, the muscles in his back bunching beneath the form fitting sweater he wears, and she watches in appreciation as he manages to snag the garland for her.

"They should really keep this stuff on shelves that aren't for giants," he huffs, dropping the decor into her basket and Kate takes notice of how nice his voice is, so rich and deep.

"Thanks for that," she murmurs, taking silent inventory of everything in the basket hanging from her arm, deciding it's enough to suffice for the party. "My coworkers and I are in your debt."

"Ah, work party?" He grimaces at her nod.

"You think a police station would have better priorities," she sighs, knowing that's a little harsh, but a Christmas party is the least of her concerns when the holidays tend to bring in more work for the homicide division, and more memories that bring nothing but anguish for her.

"Police station?" he echoes, his bright blue eyes sparking with interest, and she arches her brow at him in return.

"Yeah, where I work. As a homicide detective."

Usually that sends men running, but not this one. The intrigue in his irises seems to only flare brighter.

"That's so awesome," he grins, the excitement of a child slowly filling his cheeks. "I'm a mystery novelist, so naturally, your line of work intrigues me."

"Oh?" she chuckles, watching him grab a few rolls of Christmas themed wrapping paper to tuck under his arm and then walk with her to checkout.

"I'm Rick, by the way."

"Kate," she murmurs. "Maybe sometime you could drop in for a ride along."

His eyes widen and just that look alone causes her to believe she may be making a horrible mistake.

"That'd be - I'd love that. Should I have your number?"

A subtle smirks flirts along his lips at the question and she rolls her eyes, but holds out her hand for his phone, entering her contact information.

"Maybe we could do dinner too, just to get to know each other," he suggests with a shrug and she suppresses her smile, already finding Rick to be quite persistent. And pretty endearing, too.

"We'll see, Rick."

Her phone buzzes in her pocket while she's walking back to her Crown Vic with the armful of Christmas decor. She doesn't recognize the number, but she already knows it's him.

 _Skip the holiday party, have dinner with me tonight._

Her presence at the holiday party that night isn't missed and she doesn't regret skipping out, enjoying her burger and shake at Remy's with Richard Castle instead.


	4. Chapter 4

_Prompt: "All the shops are closed and its cold and we don't know each other but we both happened to want to see the Christmas lights."_

* * *

Christmas without his daughter is unbearable. It's her first year away for the holidays and he knows she was hesitant to go, to spend her first Christmas without him and with Meredith instead, but his ex had insisted and persuaded Alexis with the magic of Christmas in LA. His daughter will be back by tomorrow and from what he heard during their phone call only an hour ago, she sounded happy, like she was actually having a good time. And that's all he could ask for this Christmas.

The sidewalks of New York City are't empty, never, but the streets are unquestionably filled with far less congestion than normal due to the festivities keeping most indoors. Warm, safe, and happy with their families.

Castle sighs and digs his hands deeper into his coat pockets, hunching his shoulders against the chill, and walks further down Fifth Avenue, admiring the rows upon rows of lights illuminating shop windows. The stores are all closed, but they keep their Christmas spirit on display, and that's why he's out, enduring the freezing temperatures on the night of Christmas Eve. There's a magic to Christmas in New York, and if he can't have his traditions, his dinner and gift exchange with his daughter, he can have the beauty of Christmas lights illuminating a beautiful city instead.

Rick takes a detour through Washington Square Park after awhile, heading towards the Christmas tree under the infamous archway, deciding he might as well see all the landmark locations while he's playing holiday tourist for the evening.

A blanket of snow covers the ground, surrounds the Christmas tree, and aside from a lone figure standing amidst the sea of white and the riot of red from the tree's lights, the attraction is surprisingly empty. The woman in front of the tree senses him approaching almost instantly, the sharp angle of her jaw striking as she checks over her shoulder, her entire body coiling in natural defense.

He isn't out here to flirt, but he can admit she already intrigues him with the tense set of her posture. He's hardly gotten a glimpse of her face in the darkness, but he noticed the defined bone structure, the loose curls of her hair draped over her shoulder, the frown carved into her mouth. She looks cold, icy, but not from the weather.

Castle keeps his distance, but steps up to her side, admiring the tree for a moment before subtly admiring her. He thought her profile was impressive, but her face up close like this is stunning.

"May I help you?" she snaps, her voice as biting as the winter chill, but Castle only shakes his head in answer to the question.

"No, I'm just checking out the light displays scattered across the city. Didn't mean to disturb you."

"Aren't you a native?" the woman asks, and he catches the moment it registers on her face that she just gave herself away, proving that whoever she is, she knows him.

"Yep, Richard Castle," he introduces himself, deciding to spare her the embarrassment and holding out his hand.

He doesn't expect her to accept it, but she drifts towards him, clasps his gloved hand in her own and gives it a firm shake.

"Kate Beckett," she replies, the line of her mouth quirking upwards for him.

"Nice to meet you, Kate," he grins, squeezing her hand before releasing it and stuffing his back in his pockets. "May I ask what you're doing out here all alone on Christmas Eve?"

"Only if you explain why you're out here first," she counters, digging the toe of her boot into a patch of slush at their feet.

"My daughter is visiting her mother in California. Staying in my empty loft on Christmas Eve was kind of depressing, so I decided…"

Kate's eyebrow arches when his sentence trails.

"Decided what?" she prompts.

"Wait, I have an idea," he grins, shivering in his coat as the temperature continues to drop and a light snowfall begins to descend.

"I've barely known you for five minutes, but I'm already afraid to ask," she murmurs wryly and his lips stretch wider. He already likes Kate Beckett.

"I know we don't know each other and the shops are all closed and it's freezing, but do you want to come see the rest of the lights with me?"

For a second, her expression falls blank, the rich amber of her eyes widening just slightly with surprise, and judging from what he's learned about her in the last couple of minutes, he doesn't expect her to say yes, not at all. But then her teeth stab into her bottom lip, concealing an enticing hint of a smile, and she nods.

"Yeah, that sounds really nice actually."

"Really?"

"Yes, Mr. Castle," she smirks, reaching out to curl her fingers at the crook of his elbow and tugging him towards the exit of the park.

"You can call me Rick," he tells her as he stumbles along, tripping through the snow, and he doesn't understand how five minutes with this woman has caused all of his usual charm and composure to evaporate.

"Mm, I like Castle," she muses, guiding him back onto the streets, in the direction of the most vibrant of the city lights.

"Fine with me, Beckett."

* * *

He thinks they've explored the entirety of the city by eleven that night. His legs ache from the hours of walking, his bones all stiff from the extended time in the cold, but he doesn't regret a single second of it. Because he has Kate Beckett on his arm, laughing at his jokes and marveling at the magnificence of the Christmas lights covering Manhattan with him.

"Do you want to come back to my place for coffee?" Castle asks through chattering teeth once they've circled back to where their night together began.

Kate hesitates, just like he expected, but he knows she's not in any hurry to return home to her empty apartment. He had learned that she had been in the park that night for the same reason as him, seeking a piece of lost magic through the Christmas spirit blanketing the city.

"Just coffee," she warns, sticking her arm out for one of the few cabs still out tonight.

His loft is twenty minutes away from the park if they walk and he's grateful when one of the speeding taxis comes to a halt for her, giddy as she drags him inside the car with her by their interlaced fingers.

Kate sits close to him in the cab, the length of her thigh pressing against his, and he makes a casual attempt at wrapping an arm around her shoulders, feeling her stiffen beneath him for a moment before continuing to surprise him, leaning into the warmth of his side instead.

She's a mystery, of that he's sure, and he doesn't think he'll ever solve her, not tonight, probably not ever, but he wants the chance to try.

* * *

"You didn't even need to leave your home to find magic, Castle," she states when he guides her inside the loft, her voice laced with soft awe as she explores the apartment with wide eyes.

"I never had big Christmases as a kid," he explains, taking her coat for her while she continues to gaze at the multitude of decorations overtaking the first floor of his home. "So I tend to go all out."

"I see," she chuckles, following him into his kitchen, propping her hip against the island while he brews her a special, Christmas themed blend of coffee, relishing in her chuckle when he hands her the Santa shaped mug.

They sip their coffees in comfortable silence, Kate breaking it every few minutes to ask about his traditions, about the childhood that sometimes failed to allow him the kinds of Christmases he indulges in now. She listens like she's truly interested, like she actually cares about what he has to say, and he finds himself pouring out pieces of his life to her like he never has with anyone else.

She looks mournful when she realizes her cup is empty and he feels his own stab of longing and disappointment at the thought of her disappearing out his door.

"What time do you pick Alexis up at the airport tomorrow?" she inquires softly, pausing on their way to the door to admire the Christmas tree consuming most of his living room.

"Around noon. We're going to have a Christmas lunch."

Kate smiles at that, brushing her fingertips over a cutout snowman ornament Alexis made in school last year that hangs front and center on the evergreen.

He thinks Alexis would like Kate. His daughter is shy, always hiding at his side when he introduces her to new people, especially women he's seeing - not that that happens often - but he believes she would come to adore Kate quite quickly, just like he has.

"It was nice meeting you, Castle," Kate murmurs, drifting a little too slowly towards the front door with him.

"We'll meet again, right?"

She hesitates and his heart constricts in his chest, because he already likes her so much and he doesn't want this to be his last moment with her -

"Yeah," she breathes out and he does too, feeling his ribcage expand with relief. "I think we definitely will."

Beckett reaches past him into the coat closet, but rather than grabbing the black trench coat from the hanger, she digs in the pocket, producing a business card for him. Using a pen from the cup holding a bouquet of them on the end table, she scribbles something on the back of the card and hands it to him.

Castle observes the crisp white paper, the neat listing of her name and profession - yeah, he already freaked out over that while they were passing through the Rockefeller Center - and contact information on the front, and flips he card over to see her cell phone number on the back.

He's about to say something, likely something stupid by the way his heart is racing with excitement, but then he takes notice of something above her head and feels his lips slip into a smirk.

"Kate, I hate to alarm you, but look up."

Her brow furrows, but she tilts her head back to see the mistletoe hanging from the entryway and he watches in delight as a grin crawls across her lips.

"Kiss me then, Castle," she murmurs, stepping forward to curl her arms around his neck.

Rick wraps his arms around her waist and touches his lips to the soft silk of hers, smiling against her mouth as her fingers wind in his hair and tug him closer.

It may not have been the Christmas he was expecting, but he's anything but disappointed.


	5. Chapter 5

_Prompt: "We were both cast in our high school's Christmas production."_

* * *

His mother was so proud when he was cast with the leading role of Eboneezer Scrooge in his drama class's production of _A Christmas Carol_ , gushing to her acting troupe about how her son was choosing to follow in her footsteps, just as she always knew he would. He had only taken the class as an elective to please her, not because he was a fan of stepping on a public stage and pretending to be someone else, all while risking embarrassment.

He had half-assed his audition on purpose, hoping to be cast as an extra, but by some cruel, cosmic joke, he had entered class that day to learn he had been picked as the lead of this year's annual Christmas play and he doesn't think his mother has ever been happier.

No pressure.

It doesn't help that Kate Beckett has been cast as the female lead, the one and only love interest to his bitter Scrooge. He's a hit with the girls on the cheerleading squad, along with those who choose to flirt with him in math class, but not with Kate. He's never even spoken to her, but every time he throws her one of his most charming smiles, he receives a scowl or an eye roll in return.

He knows she thinks he's just another jerk, he doesn't blame her, but now they have to work together to pull off their high school play and he has a feeling Kate's just as thrilled as he is.

After casting is announced, drama class is nothing more than a read through of the script - he has way too many lines - and after the table read is done and everyone's free to head home at the end of the day, Rick decides to bite the bullet and do some damage control with Kate.

He finds her near the door to the auditorium, packing up her backpack. He's never been this close to her before aside from a quick brush in a crowded classroom or a busy hallway, and he notes that she's pretty. Really pretty.

"Hey Kate," he tries, earning an arched eyebrow for the awkward greeting, and since when is _he_ awkward?

"What do you need, Rodgers?" she asks, no malice in her voice, but definitely no enthusiasm either.

Rick takes a deep breath and balls his hands into fists to refrain from fidgeting. "I was hoping you'd be willing to rehearse with me outside of class."

Kate glances up to him as she slings her pack over her shoulder, curiosity sparking in her hazel eyes.

"I thought you didn't even like acting, you always look miserable on stage," she comments, stepping around him to exit the theater of a classroom, letting him catch the door as it swings behind her.

"I - it's not that I don't _like_ it," he explains, making too many weird gestures with his hands that seem to amuse her. "But my mother is an actress, so it's kind of a dream of hers for me to follow in her footsteps, you know?"

Kate nods as he rambles along, curling her fingers around the straps of her backpack while they start toward the parking lot. Snow begins to fall before they reach her car, the white flakes catching in the chocolate waves of her hair, and he's always thought he had a thing for blondes, but Kate Beckett may change that.

"Fine," she sighs and he claps his hands in delight, earning a familiar eye roll for the response. "When and where?"

"My place is fine, unless you're more comfortable at yours. Whatever you want."

He doesn't think he's ever seen her smile until right then when her pink lips quirk at the corners and her eyes soften into a rich shade of amber.

"We can alternate, are you free tomorrow?"

Tomorrow is Saturday and he had planned to go hang out with the boys from the hockey team, but somehow, rehearsing lines with Kate sounds far more appealing.

"Yeah," he nods quickly, fishing out a pen and a notebook from his backpack, scribbling his name and number on one of the few blank pages.

"You take a lot of notes," she appraises, noticing the filled pages of the journal as he flips it closed and holds out the piece of paper with his number to her.

"They're not notes," he says with a grin.

Intrigue sparks in her eyes, but she doesn't push, merely tucks his number into her coat pocket and unlocks her car.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Rick."

"See you tomorrow," he echoes, watching as she drives away with the hint of a grin still claiming her lips.

That night he fills his journal with words about an enigmatic girl with ever changing eyes and a dazzling smile.


	6. Chapter 6

_Prompt: "I was your Secret Santa at work but I gave you some out of date chocolate by accident so now I'm buying you a drink to apologize."_

* * *

"Wait! Don't eat that," she murmurs, snatching the piece of chocolate from his hand.

Castle stares wide eyed at Kate Beckett, his coworker, whom he's never actually spoken more than two words to, as she tosses his Secret Santa gift into the nearest trash bin.

"I'm so sorry," she starts, scraping a hand through the loose curls of her hair. "I didn't realize I'd brought the wrong box of chocolates. I bought them last week, but I saw the recall on the news today and I've been trying to figure out who ended up with them all night."

Rick glances from the woman in front of him to the holiday themed box of candy in the trash. The gift exchange had just ended half an hour ago and the holiday party is still going on in the break room, he can even see a few of the officers decked out in Santa hats and reindeer antlers, but not Kate. He only started working here three months ago, yet this is the first time the fellow, no nonsense detective has done anything other than ignore him.

"So yeah, I was your Secret Santa and I gave you some out of date chocolate by accident," she summarizes when he fails to respond, shifting awkwardly in front of his desk, straightening the lapels of her blazer. "Mind if I buy you a drink to make up for it?"

His eyebrows quirk and he quickly stands from his desk, strolling around to meet the beautiful woman who'd almost given him what would like have been a horrible case of indigestion.

"Sounds like a far better gift than chocolate," he nods, offering her his arm, surprised when she takes it, a shy smile tugging at her lips.

From the day he made the transfer from narcotics to homicide, she had intrigued him. Her dedication, her tenacity, her intelligence - all so fierce, but he knew better than to make any attempt at flirting. Kate Beckett would not be charmed by his suave but tired pickup lines.

So he had watched her from afar, planning to make his move, doing his best to somehow end up on her team. They could use another member, right? Ryan and Esposito were great partners, but what about her? Who had Detective Beckett's back?

They end up at the Old Haunt in a secluded booth near the back, and he learns Kate isn't quite as hardened and closed off as she appears. She's not only smart, but funny, clever and witty, and beautiful when she laughs. So beautiful. She makes words itch at his fingertips, makes him wish he was a writer rather than a detective just so he could dedicate pages upon pages of words to her, and - wow, he is in way over his head with this woman after just one date.

Castle walks her home even though she's sure to let him know she can take care of herself. He doesn't doubt it. He's seen her take on criminals in interrogations, watched her spar with men twice her size in the gym, but she still lets him hold her hand and walk the streets to her place in Tribeca with her on that cold, December night.

"We make a good team," he murmurs when they reach her building and her lips quirk.

"You think so?"

"I do. I even think that one day…" He takes a step closer, using his light grip on her fingers to pull her in. "I could be your partner."

"I work alone, Detective Castle," she reminds him with a cool smirk, but her eyes are alight, sparkling gold as they flicker from his eyes to his lips.

"Don't you get tired of doing everything alone, Kate?"

He expects anger, expects her to push away because he's pushed too far, but she kisses him instead, soft and sweet like the candy cane themed beverage she'd had at the bar.

"Then show me what it's like," she whispers, her lips still brushing his, her fingers curling at the collar of his button down shirt. "Show me why I need a partner, why I'd need you."

Kate guides him inside her building, up the three flights of stairs, and into her apartment, into her bedroom.

He convinces her to take him on as her partner less than a month later, as more than a partner in even less time, and he never thought he would be so grateful for an expired box of chocolates.


	7. Chapter 7

_"Our families have been having an unspoken Christmas lights competition since you moved here and now I've finally met my rival."_

* * *

Castle sighs and grudgingly admires the light display lining the Beckett's doorway. He can see her window decorated from the street too and he hates to admit it, but Kate Beckett has unquestionably outdone him this year.

"Daddy, will you please just knock on the door?" Alexis groans, tugging on his arm and Rick huffs, doing as his impatient daughter asks and knocking on the door of his rival, his arch nemesis in the art of Christmas lighting decor, and also the woman he's sort of in love with.

"Alexis!" the youngest of the two Becketts exclaims the moment the door swings open.

"Steph!"

Their daughters greet each other with squeals of delight, throwing their arms around another and spinning in the doorway.

"Hey Castle."

Rick glances up from his daughter and her best friend, embracing as if it's been years and not a day, to see Kate watching him with a smile that quickly morphs into a smirk.

"Detective Beckett," he replies, offering up a smirk of his own. They flirt, bask in banter and exchange innuendo, too afraid to do anything more most days, to be genuine.

"Mommy, can I show Alexis my presents from Santa?" Stephanie Beckett asks, glancing back to her mother who nods with a smile.

"Of course," Kate says, stepping aside to allow the two girls to race past her, towards the modest tree standing in the corner of their living room.

Kate and her daughter had moved into his building two years ago. He and Alexis had met Stephanie first, in the elevator on a chilly November day while her grandfather was bringing her home from school. Ever since then, their girls had become fast friends, which had led to him spending excessive time with his daughter's best friend's mother.

"Well, Kate, I must admit, I think I've met my rival in the Christmas light department," Castle muses, strolling inside her apartment and heading into the kitchen, where he knows she already has a fresh pot of coffee brewed.

"Oh? I never knew it was a competition," she quips, following him with a quirked brow and propping a hand on her hip as he rummages through her cabinet for his favorite mug.

"Unspoken competition," he informs her, earning her signature eye roll in return.

"It's just a tradition Steph and I do, you know that. She loves the magic of Christmas lights, you just love being a show off."

Castle gasps, affronted, but relishing in the sound of her laughter muffled behind her own already filled cup.

"Insulting me on Christmas," he scoffs, shaking his head in mock disapproval. "Reaching new lows here, Kate."

He watches her check over her shoulder, smiling softly at the sight of their daughters sorting through Stephanie's Christmas presents. He knows Kate and Steph spend their Christmases alone aside from the Christmas Eve appearance of Jim Beckett. He knows Christmas has always been rather bittersweet for her, knows the truth about her mother, still remembering with aching clarity the night she broke down and told him after Steph had offhandedly mentioned wishing she had someone like _his_ mother for a grandma after spending a 'girls day' with Martha and Alexis. He remembers holding her as she cried into his shoulder in the middle of her kitchen.

"Staring's still creepy, Castle," she murmurs and he blinks, trying to focus, but falling distracted to the way the vibrant red of her sweater brings out the green hiding in her eyes.

"Did you like the earrings?"

Kate looks to him in confusion for a moment before her eyes brighten with clarity.

"Oh, those were from you? I just thought Santa had left something under the tree for me for a change," she teases, setting her empty cup in the sink and coming towards him with a real smile tugging at her lips. "They were beautiful, Rick. Did you like the notebook?"

He nods eagerly, watching her smile grow.

"Already started filling it up," he tells her, leaving out the fact that most of the words crammed inside the gorgeous moleskin notebook she gave him for Christmas are about her.

"With the adventures of Derrick Storm and Clara Strike?" she grins, propping her hip beside his on the counter while he rubs at the back of his neck, thinking fast.

"Uh, no. New character."

"Really? You didn't tell me you were starting something new."

Delight flickers in her eyes and he almost feels guilty for putting it there under false pretenses. He knows she loves his work, though she loathes to admit it.

"Ooh, Daddy are you telling Kate about the character you're basing off of her?" Alexis calls from the living room, earning a look of interest from both the Beckett in front of him and the smaller one sitting next to the tree with his daughter.

"You're writing a character based on my mom?" Stephanie asks, wide hazel eyes waiting on him.

"Yeah, Castle, feel free to explain," Kate adds, crossing her arms, and oh, this is so not good.

"Um, well - sort of?"

"That's so cool," Stephanie whispers to Alexis, her dark blonde hair whipping through the air as she turns back to his daughter.

"Right? Daddy only bases characters on people he cares about and thinks are total badasses."

"Alexis!" Castle scolds, watching his daughter clap her hand to her mouth.

"I was just trying to explain to Steph!" she defends and Rick slouches against the counter.

"Steph, why don't you and Alexis take some of your toys to your room for a little while, okay?"

Stephanie is smart, perceptive too, just like her mother, but she merely shrugs in acceptance at the suggestion and gathers her things with Alexis, the two trotting off in the direction of the girl's bedroom.

"Talk, now," Kate says, poking him in the shoulder with her index finger.

"I _am_ basing a character off of you," he hedges, raising a hand in supplication before she can speak. "But it's not… it wasn't anything official, Kate, I just - I wanted to write about you."

She's quiet for a moment and he's too afraid of her reaction to lift his gaze from the floor.

"Why?" she finally asks and he huffs a hollow laugh, scrubbing at his eyes before meeting hers.

"You know why."

"Castle," she murmurs, curling her fingers at his arm, but he shakes his head.

"No, it's fine. You don't have to-"

"Will you shut up for once?" she growls, lifting a hand to his cheek, holding him still as she leans into him, covers his lips with her own.

One of his hands is instantly at her face, cradling, keeping her there. Though, he doesn't believe she intends to go anywhere, not when her arms are around his neck and her lips are dancing over his, heating up his blood and coaxing his heart into a steady pound.

"Eww! They're kissing!"

Castle and Beckett break apart to see their two daughters spying from the hallway, disgust and just a hint of excitement on their faces.

"Stephanie Jo," Kate starts and he has to swallow his laughter at the comedic way the two scramble back towards her daughter's room.

"How long have you been writing about me?" she murmurs once the bedroom door clicks shut.

Rick sighs and drops his forehead to hers. "Awhile. This beats fiction, though."

Kate grins and lifts on her toes, capturing his smile with her teeth.

"Maybe next year, we can collaborate on the light display," he muses between kisses, nipping at her bottom lip when it curls upwards. "You know, build new traditions-"

"Don't push it, Castle," she hums, curling her fingers around the collar of his sweater. "Just enjoy this Christmas with me and our kids, and we'll see what next year brings when we get there."

She sounds so certain, so sure of a future in which they're together like this, and Christmas light competition be damned, this is the best Christmas ever.


	8. Chapter 8

_Prompt: "We're both lonely at a pub so let's see how many Christmas pick up lines we can come up with."_

* * *

 **Set post 7x06, 'The Time of Our Lives'.**

* * *

"Is your name Jingle Bells? Because you look like you go all the way."

Kate wrinkles her nose. "Bad, but not your worst."

"Oh c'mon," Richard Castle sighs from his seat across the table from her. "I thought that was my best one yet."

"I don't know. The one about Santa's little helper was-"

"The worst. Definitely the worst," he interrupts before she can repeat one of the many pickup lines they've exchanged within the last hour and Kate smothers her grin behind the neck of her beer bottle. "It's your turn anyway."

She huffs and leans back in the booth, propping her feet up on the bench next to him. His eyes flicker down and she notices his fingers twitch on the table, but he still hesitates. Kate waits, watching from beneath the curtain of her lashes to see what he'll do next.

She had recognized him the moment he'd stepped inside, looking miserable and lost, and her heart had stuttered at the sight of her favorite author. And the man who had taken two bullets for her just over a month ago.

She sent him a drink halfway through his sulking at the bar and when he glanced over to her in curiosity, she had simply inclined her head towards the empty space in her booth. It wasn't like her, but she had missed him.

Even if this version of Richard Castle didn't recognize her, didn't yet love her like the one of another world had.

Castle's fingers curl around her ankle, thumb swirling over the uncovered bone beneath her pantleg, and she bites back her grin of delight, throws out her next pickup line instead.

"Is that a candy cane in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

Rick chokes on his drink and she laughs, the sound almost foreign to her own ears. They had started exchanging pickup lines to distract him from his sorrow after the first two hours of small talk conversation. He hates Christmas, he had explained, because he spends every year alone, his daughter in LA, his mother out being a broadway star despite the holidays.

She's grown to hate Christmas for similar reasons, but she holds them back, keeps her cards close to her chest even though he makes her want to lay them all out on the table.

"Call me Rudolph, because you just sleighed me."

He receives an eye roll and a nudge of her foot for that one.

"Ooh, or - I didn't think I was a snowman, but you just made my heart melt."

"You're going from bad to worse here," she informs him with a smirk, but for the smile he gives her, she would let him recite cheesy pickup lines all night if he wanted to.

Castle chuckles and mimics her, sitting back in the booth, abandoning his half empty glass.

"Well, lucky for you, I think I've thought of every holiday themed line out there, so…"

Kate tugs her lower lip between her teeth. "So?"

He's a bit more bashful than she remembers, this version of Castle, _her_ version. The other belonged to what was apparently an alternate variation of herself - as crazy as _that_ sounds - but this one… he could be hers and hers alone one day.

"Did you want to spend the rest of Christmas Eve with me?" he asks, the nerves alive and flickering in his sharp blue eyes.

Kate retracts her legs, slipping from the booth and holding out her hand to him in response.

He could be hers, maybe sooner than she thinks.

* * *

She wakes on Christmas morning with him beside her, already awake and watching, tracing patterns along the length of her spine.

"Merry Christmas, Kate," he grins, eyes alight under the winter sun shining through her window, and she stretches forward, smudging her smile over his.

Castle's arms are warm around her, secure and comforting, and she usually isn't a cuddler, but she presses in close to him, burrowing into the welcoming cove of his body, causing his smile to grow.

"Stay," she whispers, voice still scratchy with sleep.

His brow furrows for a moment, but his eyes go soft as he reaches out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Where would I go?"


	9. Chapter 9

_Prompt: Continuation of chapter 8, '7x06 Christmas AU'._

* * *

Kate jerks awake in his bed and sucks in a staggering breath that makes her lungs burn, the scent of him masking the phantom smell of his blood on her hands,

"I'm right here," the low rumble of his voice promises her, the hand at her back warm and reassuring between the blades of her shoulders.

She shifts from her side, onto her back to see the proof of him in the morning light, finding Castle lying awake beside her with sleep still crowding the corners of his eyes.

"I woke you," she sighs, reaching out to stroke the fringe of his hair back from his forehead.

It hasn't been the first time in the last few months that a nightmare has shaken them both from sleep, but she had thought the dreams of Richard Castle dying for her had finally receded, potentially disappeared for good. Ever since they had met for the first time once more in a bar on Christmas, though, the terrifying memories she had worked so hard to block out have flooded back in to become a weekly occurrence.

"I don't mind," Castle yawns, but he's blinking hard to eradicate the slumber from his eyes, to give her his full attention.

Kate rolls towards him, inching across the sheets to twine their legs, to curl her arm around his torso and touch her fingers to his chest, caressing the two bullet scars there.

"You think you'll ever remember that day?" she inquires, stroking her fingertips over the raised flesh, the healed wounds that he has no recollection of receiving. She had yet to reveal her own memories of that day, but after spending so many nights in his bed, having him in hers, she had grown curious of the twin gunshot wounds adorning his chest, and he had told her his side of the story without hesitation. Not that there was much to tell.

His memories of the day he was shot, the days leading up to it, are blank. The entire timeframe that she could have fit into a cleansed canvas in his mind that she wishes to paint with the truth.

"I don't know," he frowns, always so disappointed in himself each time it comes up, and Kate lifts her fingers to dust along his lips. " I hope so."

She hoped so too, but if he didn't, if those memories of what little time they had had together prior to this never returned, she could accept that. They've made new memories that would outlast the old, outshine them with ease, and even if he doesn't know it, she never wants him to doubt it.

Kate dips her head forward to touch her lips to the scar closest to his collarbone. "Whether you do or you don't, it doesn't matter." She scales her mouth along his throat, hums at the curl of his fingers in her hair, guiding her higher. "Just don't forget anything else," she murmurs, whispering her lips along his jaw. "Don't forget me."

 _Again_ , she refrains from adding. She could handle losing the man who had claimed to love her in another universe, was content to believe he had been reunited with whatever twilight zone version of her he had been torn away from, but she couldn't lose the man lying in bed with her. She refused to give up _her_ Castle.

Rick brushes his thumb along the shell of her ear, slants a kiss to her mouth, searing but tender all at once, and cradles her body closer, makes her feel precious and wanted and so wonderfully overwhelmed.

"Never, Kate," he promises, seals it to her lips with another kiss that has her spine arching towards him for more. "Could never forget you."


	10. Chapter 10

_Prompt: "We were the only ones wearing Christmas sweaters on the bus and did you see how everyone was looking at us or was that just me?"_

* * *

Kate steps off the bus and heads for the park, desperate for fresh air and solitude. The Christmas party was a disaster and she wanted to go home, to change out of this stupid, oversized sweater, but she needed a moment to collect herself first, to allow the biting air of December to seep into her bones and clear her mind before she returns home to the emptiness of her apartment.

The swing set of the park is vacant and she treks through the snow in relief, easing down onto the icy seat and taking a moment to just relax.

She just wasn't ready for Christmas yet, for the memories it brought back, that was all.

"Hey!" Kate startles at the man who trots through the thick layer of snow covering the ground to greet her and is that… Richard Castle? "I saw you on the bus, lost you in the crowd," he explains, shattering all hopes of solitude as he plops down beside her, the chains of his swing rattling. "I'm Rick."

He extends his hand and she takes it without thinking, giving it a soft shake and eliciting a large smile she doesn't understand.

"Kate," she replies, offering up a small smile of her own despite the whirlwind of confusion.

"We were the only ones wearing Christmas sweaters on the bus and did you see how everyone was looking at us? Or was that just me?" he questions, swaying gently on the swing beside her.

"I noticed," she chuckles, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Is that the reason you followed me out here?"

Richard Castle shrugs. "Well, I had wanted to talk to you on the bus, but the seat beside you was taken, so I had planned to just wait, but then you disappeared before I could introduce myself."

"You have determination, I'll give you that," she smirks, plucking at the fabric of the vibrant green sweater.

"You weren't too hard to find, Kate. Your reindeer themed sweater was too snazzy to lose sight of."

The laugh bubbles past her lips and she reaches over to pluck at the bright blue fabric of his own atrocious sweater.

"Oh yeah, and your Frosty the snowman getup here is hard to miss?" she quips, earning the rich sound of his chuckle in return.

"It was a present from my daughter," he defends, grinning down at the snowmans dancing across the front of his sweater. "What's your excuse?"

"Ugly Christmas sweater themed party my friend dragged me to," she answers, wincing at the reminder that she needs to call Lanie later tonight, explain why she bolted without so much as a goodbye. "But you haven't answered my question, why exactly did you follow me out here?"

"Because I wanted to use our bonding over ugly holiday sweaters as a way to break the ice so I could ask you out," he explains casually and damn him for making her cheeks flush.

"Don't you have a slew of women with chests to sign already waiting for you?" Kate questions, because he may be her favorite author, but his behavior according to the media is anything but favorable and there is no way in hell she's getting involved with some playboy who will just break her heart and move onto the next without a second glance.

Rick deflates a little under her assumption, but shakes his head. "No, I was kind of hoping you hadn't recognized me."

"Kinda hard not to," she points out.

"Listen, I understand if my image turns you off, but I'm not… I'm not that guy, not in my real life, so," Rick stands from the swings and she's almost sad at the realization that he's leaving her. "If you wouldn't mind getting to know the real me, maybe we can have coffee sometime."

He reaches into the back pocket of his jeans, holding out a folded piece of paper to her that she takes and opens with intrigue, her lips tugging at the messy scrawl of his name and number.

"I wrote it on the bus, I was going to try and make it into a paper airplane to throw at you, but it failed takeoff."

Kate bites her lip to suppress a giggle that would be far too girly and unlike her, and instead folds the note back up, tucking it in to her coat pocket.

"Rick," she calls as he turns to leave, watching in amusement as he pauses in his tracks, turning to look at her with ridiculous hope in his eyes. "Can I have that coffee now?"

"Only if we're both allowed to go home and change first," he throws back without missing a beat and she nods, rising from the swing to catch up with him.

"Deal."


	11. Chapter 11

_Prompt: "My family insisted on going to the pantomime this year and I was the one who had to sit next to a stranger, meaning I sat next to you, and did I mention you have a cute laugh?"_

* * *

The show has just wrapped and he's surprised by how much he actually enjoyed it. He had been sure that mimes would be the least enjoyable form of entertainment he's ever encountered, but the silent actors had cracked him up and the woman next to him had definitely added to the experience with her adorable bouts of laughter.

His heart leaps in excitement when he sees her in the crowd, her short auburn hair standing out in the sea of people, and he pats his daughter on the shoulder.

"Sweetie, I'll be right back. Keep working on getting us a table," he mumbles and Alexis nods her assent before returning to her phone conversation with the host of a nearby restaurant while his mother continues to gush to one of the performers, who continues to reply with silent gestures.

Castle breaks away from his two redheaded companions and maneuvers his way through the crowd in pursuit of the woman with the cute laugh, growing more excited the closer he became to reaching her.

Until he sees her meeting with a tall, square jawed man on the sidewalk.

Rick pauses, causing a bitter mumble or two to be thrown his way, but he's too distracted to care. The woman with the cute laugh doesn't look pleased to see square jawed, a frown creasing her once smiling lips, and he watches the quiet argument brew between them.

He inches closer, catching words, her name being one of them. _Kate._ He likes it, it fits her, fits that gorgeous laugh that keeps playing on a loop through his head. _  
_

Kate attempts to sidestep square jaw, but he blocks her path, holding up a hand between them as if he's pleading with her, but the look on his face is demanding and Castle gets an idea.

She may appear as though she can handle herself, he'd bet money that she could take square jaw here down with one hand tied behind her back if the tension crawling along her spine is any indication, but he sees an opportunity to save her from this seemingly awkward situation while breaking the ice at the same time.

And he takes it.

"Kate, there you are," he huffs, plastering on his most charming grin as he sidles up beside her. "Sorry I let us get separated in the crowd."

Kate glances over to him in utter confusion, but with a threatening hint of warning in her eyes, and something else… something like… recognition? Could Kate with the cute laugh possibly be a fan?

"Anyway, the cab's here if you're ready to go and - oh, who's your friend?" he babbles on, willing her to trust him with nothing more than the sheer determination in his eyes.

He catches the moment she realizes what he's up to, those hazel orbs flashing green with something like amusement.

"Rick, this is Will Sorenson, my ex," she finally chimes in, surprising him with the arm she hooks around his waist while she returns her attention to her ex. "Will, this is Rick Castle, my…"

"Boyfriend," he supplies with ease, nearly jumping at the hard pinch she delivers to his hip.

"I see," square jawed Will appraises, disappointment coloring his darkening blue eyes and Castle straightens up beside her in triumph. "Well, Kate, it was great working with you again, but I guess I'll let you go."

"Have a nice flight, Will," she returns with a nod.

Will Sorenson disappears into the street and as soon as he's out of sight, Kate spins, poking him in the chest, hard.

"What do you think you're doing?" she hisses. "I don't even know you and you just come up and-"

"I'm sorry!" he exclaims, dodging another incoming poke from that dangerous index finger. "I was just trying to help you out!"

"I didn't ask for your help," she snaps, turning to leave, but he darts in front of her.

"Wait, I just - I wasn't trying to be an ass."

Kate's perfectly groomed eyebrow curves and her arms cross and she still looks ready to punch him, but at least she's listening.

"See, my mother dragged me and my daughter to this thing," he tries to explain, motioning towards the theater behind them. "And I sat next to you throughout the entire show and we got lost in the crowd before I could talk to you inside, but then I saw you when my family and I stepped out here so I just thought…"

Kate's head tilts in curiosity when his sentence trails, her piercing eyes softening to a sparkling amber.

"What did you think, Mr. Castle?" she prompts, almost challenging in her use of his identity when he still hardly knows hers.

"That you had a really cute laugh," he admits, feeling his ears heating up. He's usually more charming than this, but his shy admission causes her own cheeks to flush just slightly. "I was going to ask if you wanted to have dinner with me sometime, but I think I may have torched my chances."

"Maybe," she chuckles, burying her hands in her coat pockets. "Maybe not."

His head jerks up to meet her smirking expression.

"Why didn't you just talk to me in there if we were sitting beside each other for the last two hours?" she murmurs, cocking her head towards the theater behind them.

Castle swallows and shifts nervously. "I - I didn't want to disturb you during the show."

"Ah," she hums, as if she doesn't quite believe him, and isn't he supposed to be a suave playboy? Where did his reliable persona run off to when he could use it? "Well, there's another showing here next weekend. Why don't you meet me here for it?"

Her eyes sparkle with mischief, golden in the light of street lamps.

"Like a date?" he questions, eager anticipation filling his veins and she bites her lip, shrugs her shoulders.

"Sure. I'll see you in a week, Rick," she murmurs as she strolls away, flashing him a smile over her shoulder.

He ends up staring after her long after she's disappeared and his daughter has to break him from his trance to drag him to their town car.

A week later, he finds Kate outside the theater and revels in her laugh for the rest of the night.

Six years later, he gets to introduce Kate with the cute laugh as his wife.


	12. Chapter 12

_Prompt: "You were busking on the street, singing and playing Christmas songs on your guitar, and I was the one who sung along to Slade. Sorry."_

* * *

The woman on the street intrigues him the moment he lays eyes on her. She's got an acoustic guitar and she's playing Christmas songs, both old and new, traditional and modern, and he finds himself mesmerized.

He isn't the only one. She's drawn quite a crowd, her performance luring in a multitude of men, women, and children who she encourages to sing along if they recognize the tune. Rick remains near the back of the crowd, humming to himself for the most part, but when she busts out 'Merry Christmas Everybody' by Slade, he gets pretty into it.

He doesn't consider his singing voice bad, he's actually quite good if he tries, and he notices when she hears him, still strumming her guitar, singing along with everyone else, but searching the crowd with determined eyes until they land on him.

She holds his gaze, her own sparking with interest while her lips curl into an alluring smile that she hides behind the curtain of her chestnut hair.

After her show, he waits until the crowd dissipates and she's alone, packing up her guitar and adjusting her scarf around her neck.

"Hi."

Her eyes fly up to meet him, a grin spreading across her lips, and she's gorgeous from afar, but breathtaking up close.

"Hey, you're the one who turned my Slade number into a duet."

His ears turn pink and she must notice because she laughs, the sound light and beautiful, warming the freezing winter air around them.

"You put me in the Christmas spirit," he shrugs, returning her smile. "Hey, I didn't get to put any money in your case," he points out when she straps her guitar inside and snaps the case shut.

"That's okay, I don't accept donations," she informs him, clutching the handle in her fist and standing straight.

"I thought that was the whole point of street performing," he queries, but this performer seems amused with his confusion.

"Maybe for some. I just do it every once in awhile because I like it," she shrugs.

"Can I at least buy you a coffee…"

"Kate," she supplies, chewing on the corner of her bottom lip. "And yeah, coffee sounds fantastic actually."

Rick rejoices in silent delight and allows her to lead him down the street, towards her favorite coffee shop.

* * *

She doesn't have the time to perform on the streets much anymore, her work as a detective keeping her busy, but he never has to worry about missing out on her talents.

After that first night, he's gotten into the habit of showing up at her apartment for private sessions that she turns into lessons. Within two weeks, he can play a few basic chords. Within a month he can play that ridiculous Slade song she still teases him about. Within three months, he stops coming over for playful guitar lessons.

Only for her.


	13. Chapter 13

_Prompt: "We're both in the store and i'm trying to find a good Christmas candle for my mum, what do you think of this scent?"_

* * *

"Excuse me, can I ask your opinion on something?"

Kate glances over her shoulder, forcing her jaw to remain tight and hinged at the sight of her favorite author standing beside her.

"Sure," she replies, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"What do you think of this scent?"

Richard Castle extends the candle in his hand towards her and she leans in, gives it a small whiff before wrinkling her nose in disgust.

"Okay, not that one then," he chuckles, placing the sickening green candle back on the shelf. "I'm trying to find a good Christmas candle for my mother," he explains, rubbing a hand over his eyes as if this task has become truly draining. "All I have to go on is that she doesn't want one that smells like a Christmas tree."

Kate plucks a red one from the multitude of candles lining the shelves and brings it to her nose, inhaling the scent of apple pie.

"What about this one?" she suggests, holding it out to him and he shrugs, giving it a quick nod of approval.

"Oh hey look, gingerbread!" he grins, grabbing the cinnamon colored candle and taking a deep inhale. "I'm bringing this one whether she likes it or not."

Kate takes a quick breath of the candle when he holds it out to her, mimicking his early nod of approval.

"Take this one too," she says before he can head to the register of the little boutique, snagging a peppermint flavored candle for him. "It's one of my favorites."

"Then I'm definitely taking that one too, bring it to the register with me," he grins and she abandons her own perusal of candles to follow him to the front of the store.

She had only stepped inside to seek a new scent for her bathroom, maybe a comforting lavender to soothe her mind after a long day at work, but assisting Richard Castle in the holiday section of the candles was far more rewarding.

"I owe you," he tells her while his candles are being bagged.

Kate waves him off. "You don't. I hope your mom likes the candles."

"I'm sure she will. Thank you…"

"Kate," she fills in for him with a grin that he instantly returns.

"I'm Rick, listen, I-"

The chime of her phone interrupts him and she sighs, already knowing it's likely a body.

"I'm sorry, work," she explains, already heading for the door, holding it for him when she realizes he's following.

His eyes widen when he notices her unlocking what is quite blatantly a police vehicle and she smirks.

"Nice meeting you, Mr. Castle."


	14. Chapter 14

_Prompt: We both wanted the book in the sale but it was the last one, what do we do?"_

* * *

"You're an author, just write a new book," she challenges, crossing her arms while he gives her an incredulous look.

"Why don't _you_ just pick a different book?" he shoots back.

"Why can't _you_?" she replies coolly and Rick rubs at his eyes in frustration.

This woman is absolutely infuriating. He's known her for two minutes and he can barely stand her.

It's five days until Christmas and Alexis had added a last minute addition to her list for Santa, which was sitting alone and on display right in front of him. But apparently this woman's niece had done the exact same thing and here they stood, glaring each other down over the newest addition of a novel that was all the rage among ten year olds.

"Okay how about this," he tries, watching her quirk an eyebrow in interest and although he loathes this woman right now, the move has him noticing how gorgeous those hazel eyes of her really are. "You let me buy this book _and,_ " he accentuates the conjunction, raising a hand in supplication when she appears as if she's about to protest. "I will personally contact the author of the series, have her send a signed copy to your niece for a late Christmas gift."

The woman softens at that, just barely, but enough for him to notice as she purses her lips in contemplation.

"And you can't choose this option because?" she questions.

"Because this is at the top of my daughter's Christmas list and I'm not willing to wait," he shrugs. "Listen, I'm not trying to be a jerk, especially not to you and not over something as silly as a book. I just - ever since my ex left, I try to make the holidays extra special for my kid and if I had known this was going to make it on to her Christmas list sooner, I would have come here yesterday when it was released."

Her arms are still crossed, her lips still pursed, her eyes still pensive.

"How do I know you're not playing me?" she muses and Castle sighs, digging in his coat pocket and handing her Alexis's Christmas list.

For the first time, her eyes turn warm, like liquid gold, and a tiny smile crawls across her lips at his daughter's handwritten letter to Santa and her meager list of requests.

"She sounds sweet," the woman murmurs, offering the list back to him, and he almost drops it, his eyes trained solely on the lovely lines of her face.

"I'm sure your niece is too," he gets out quickly and she nods.

"She is. Though, she's not actually my niece. I don't have any siblings, but she's my best friend's daughter, so I just-" The woman shrugs, diverting her eyes to her shoes. "I work a lot, never really get to see her, so I guess I wanted to make up for it by being the cool aunt."

Oh, well, now he definitely feels like a jerk.

"She'll appreciate a signed copy even more though," she adds, seeming to notice his sudden guilt. "If you really can do that."

"I can, I promise," he assures her. "The author owes me a favor anyway."

The woman offers him a beautiful lift of her lips and grabs the book, holding it out to him.

"Take it then."

He brushes his fingers over hers, feeling the sizzle of the contact race through his veins, as he takes the book from her.

"I'm Kate, by the way," she murmurs.

"I'm - you already know who I am," he remembers, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment, watching her smile grow.

"I do, Richard Castle," she chuckles, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth. "I've known you for a while now."

His brow hitches at that. "You - as in, you're a fan?"

Kate shrugs, strolling away from him, but he chases after her.

"Wait, let me pay for this, and then…"

She cocks her head, amusement glittering in her eyes as she assesses him with that unfaltering grin.

"And then what?"

"I could take you out for coffee?" he suggests, silently rejoicing when she mulls it over for a second before giving him a nod of approval.

"We'll get coffee," she echoes, walking with him towards the checkout counter. "And then maybe you can sign one of my books."


	15. Chapter 15

_Prompt: "under the mistletoe"_

* * *

The strings of Christmas lights bathe the Old Haunt in soft gold lighting, the strips of garland decorating the bar, the wreathes hanging in the windows turning his newly acquired bar into the perfect place for his Christmas party this year. He even has a decently sized Christmas tree standing proud in the corner, a professional on the piano, filling the bar with all of the best holiday classics, and everyone seems to be loving it.

The Christmas themed drinks he's been serving for free probably aren't hurting either.

Though, Kate Beckett has been nursing a glass of Christmas punch all evening and hardly seems to be enjoying his party at all.

Rick excuses himself from the conversation he had been paying half of his attention to at the bar, slips away towards the booth Beckett occupies, staring out into the snow plowed streets with tired eyes.

"Hey," he greets, sliding in across from her, noticing her eyes glimmer like the Christmas lights for a split second before fading out once more. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," she assures him, too quickly, diverting her eyes down to her glass. "You always know how to throw a great party, Castle."

"I wanted to do something a little more low key this year," he explains with a shrug, watching her trace the condensation on her glass with her thumb. "But if you want to go home, I completely understand."

Beckett's eyes flicker up to meet his, her brow creasing at his words before it straightens, clears with understanding and a sigh breaches her lips.

"I'm sorry. I just - I've never been a fan of Christmas," she confesses and he refrains from gasping aloud, from indulging his first instinct to make a big deal of this, of stating how he's always found it impossible _not_ to be a fan of Christmas. He doesn't want to make her uncomfortable; he only wants to understand.

Kate opens her mouth to say more, to explain, but her eyes cut to the Christmas caroling a few officers from the Twelfth are doing at the bar, her courage dwindling, and Castle rises from his seat.

"We can talk in my office, if you want."

She stares at the hand he holds out to her, pierces her chapped bottom lip with her teeth, and curls her fingers around his. Rick guides her through the crowd, their clasp hands loose but still together, and through the locked door that will lead down to the renovated office space.

"You've really done a remarkable job with this place," Beckett praises, releasing his hand to assess the room that had once been a dark, damp space, and wanders over to the leather sofa pushed up against the wall.

"Thanks, it was a fun project," he concedes, hesitant to join her, but eventually taking a seat at the opposite end of the couch. "So, you were saying about Christmas?"

Kate draws her legs onto the couch, curls them in close and balances her head against her hand, her elbow propped atop the cushioning. And she looks so soft in this light, comfortable on his sofa and about to open up to him, and he wishes it could always be like this, that they could end their days talking like close friends, continuing the rest of the night like lovers.

Christmas always elicits far too much wistful thinking from him.

"Every winter, as soon as that chill rolls in, I'm right back in that alley," she murmurs, her eyes downcast, the fringe of her lashes kissing her cheeks. So beautiful, even as her words split his heart with realization. "January 9th and we still hadn't taken our Christmas decorations down. And by the time my dad and I did, it was like we were putting Christmas away forever. We haven't opened those boxes since."

The _I'm sorry_ is already on the tip of his tongue, but he knows how little an apology means at this point, how little she wants one.

"I understand," he offers instead, noticing the relief that the statement brings, how it eradicates some of the ever present weight from her shoulders. "And really, Kate, if being here makes you uncomfortable, don't feel like you have to stay-"

"No, Castle," she interrupts with the gentle beginnings of a smile. "I wanted to come tonight and I was having a good time. I just need a moment sometimes, to step back from all of it."

"The party's only going to last a couple more hours, but if you need another moment…" Castle withdraws the second key to his office from the key ring in his pocket, hands it over to her. "You're welcome to spend it here."

She accepts the silver key with a soft smile, unfurling her knees from the furniture to rise to her feet. Her eyes no longer look dull and muted beneath the layers of grief this time of year burdens her with, the flecks of gold alive and glistening amidst the swirls of green.

"Thank you," she murmurs, holding out her hand to him, tugging him up from the sofa and towards the staircase. "For now, let's get back out there, enjoy the rest of the party."

Rick can feel himself beaming back at her as he nods, ascends the stairs behind her, and nearly stumbles into her when she comes to a sudden halt at the top step.

"Beckett, what-" But all he has to do is follow her gaze, up to the little shrub of mistletoe hanging from the top of the entryway. He had imagined standing beneath it with her when he had arranged the decoration there, but never had he actually thought it would happen, and definitely not like this. "Oh, we don't - that's just-"

"Mistletoe?" she finishes, turning her back towards the door to meet his gaze with an arched eyebrow. "Did you have ulterior motives leading me down here, Castle?"

"What? No!" he gasps, huffing at her when she begins to laugh at him. "You're not funny."

Castle climbs the last step to join her at the landing, his hand reaching for the door, but her fingers catch his wrist.

"Breaking tradition?" she murmurs and oh, no way is he reading this situation right. No way does Kate Beckett want him to kiss her under the mistletoe.

"I - um, is Josh coming?" he inquires, deflects, swallowing hard as her eyes fall to his lips. Because she has a boyfriend, a stupid, world saving, motorcycle riding boyfriend.

"No, he's on a special holiday mission in Africa," she replies, hand still coiled around his wrist, her thumb at the throb of his pulse. "What about Gina, are you still-"

"We're just coworkers again," he admits, giving in too easily to the gentle tug of her hand. "But Kate, I don't know if-"

The touch of her hand to his neck silences him, steadies him even as his heart begins to hammer and his lungs threaten to collapse as she leans in, brushing the carefullest of kisses to his lips. But even her whisper of a kiss evokes a spark, starts a fire in his blood, and when she doesn't move, hovering there with her mouth so close, Castle cradles her face in his hands and kisses her the way he's always imagined doing, the way he's always written about.

Her body rises into his, the echo of a moan, low and maddening, ringing through his ears while she fuses her lips to his, steals every breath he has left. But she's tearing herself away all too soon, pressing her back against the wall and lifting her hand to her mouth, dusting her fingertips along the swell of her lips.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"It was just a mistletoe kiss," he reminds her, mollifies her, lies to them both. "Just a silly Christmas tradition."

She wants to deny it, the protest flaring in her eyes, but eventually, she nods her consent, allows him to spin the story a different way.

"Well, we should get back," he murmurs, tentatively breaching the space between them to fix a strand of hair he had disrupted, the tips of his fingers grazing the heated plane of her cheek as he lowers his hand.

"Castle, when I said Josh wasn't coming, I probably should have mentioned that it was because he wasn't invited," Beckett explains, chewing on her bottom lip, shifting anxiously in front of him.

"Listen, I know I'm not his biggest fan, but bring a guest with you would have been absolutely-"

"Rick," she huffs, her lips rising into a tentative grin despite the words that follow. "We broke up last week. Thought it would be best to separate before Christmas."

They broke up. Kate is single.

His heart is stumbling, knocking hard into his lungs.

"Oh, I - I'm sorry," he offers, but her smile is only growing, soft but bright in the dim lighting of the stairwell.

"It was for the best, for both of us, and I could use a little bit of time before I dive into anything new." Castle nods, not exactly sure where this line of conversation is going, but dying to hear the rest. "But afterwards, maybe you and I could… talk?"

His brow hitches in surprise. "About?"

Kate purses her lips but steps forward once more, her gaze level with his, flicking to his mouth and back again, but she's already reaching for the door handle.

"About ending up under the mistletoe more often."


	16. Chapter 16

_Prompt: "Eggnog is gross."_

* * *

Castle pouts at her from across the kitchen, purposely flicking his eyes between her and the untouched mug of his "infamous" eggnog on the counter.

"Castle, stop it," she mumbles, attempting to concentrate on the leftover paperwork in front of her.

"Can't you just _try_ it?"

"I already told you I don't like it."

"But you've never had mine."

"Eggnog is eggnog, babe. And eggnog is gross."

Rick scoffs at her in disdain and her lips quirk in the corners while he isn't looking. Since the summer, since she had shown up on his door in the middle of a storm and chosen him over all else, she had been open to trying new things, like his interesting recipes. Even after he had fed her a s'morelette.

December had automatically put Castle in a festive mood, the approaching holiday bringing out the Christmas cheer she had always known he'd possessed, and with the festivities only a few days away, that holiday spirit had bled into the kitchen.

She had sampled all of his Christmas themed concoctions, still nursing a candy cane martini, but she had never been able to stomach eggnog, and that wasn't changing.

"What if I changed the recipe?" he starts up again after a long sip from her cup, his brow in a deep furrow of concentration. "I could add something I've never tried before that still compliments the flavor, yet makes it-"

Beckett sighs and slips from the barstool, steps around the barrier of the counter and into him, cupping his cheeks in her hands and bringing his mouth down to hers.

Castle grips her hips in surprise, parts his lips on a breathless sound when her tongue teases along the seam, slipping inside to taste the hints of cream and the subtle burn of rum, the sweet burst of cinnamon along the roof of his mouth.

"Not bad," she mumbles, allowing her hands to fall from his face, but his tighten on her waist, his breath shallow and coating her lips. "Not so bad taste testing your eggnog like this."


	17. Chapter 17

_Prompt: "Sober, Fire, Cuddles"_

* * *

He finds Kate in the living room, tending to the fire casting flickers of light across her skin, bathing her in gold. She's encased in a thick flannel blanket, holding the fabric together around her shoulders with the latch of her fingers, cocooning herself in the red and green once she returns to the couch, failing to notice him until she's curling her knees to her chest.

The fire illuminates the ripple of soft delight in her eyes at the sight of him and Castle accepts the invitation she offers with the tilt of her head, the outstretch of her arm.

"Couldn't sleep?" he inquires, settling down beside his wife, humming with gratitude when she extends one side of the blanket to him, allows him to bundle them both in the warmth.

Kate shakes her head, but shifts further into him, those bent knees fitting against the cage of his ribs, her head falling to rest at his shoulder while her fingers fist in the thermal fabric covering his chest.

"You?"

"Not without you in the bed," he mumbles, feeling her lips twitch against his throat, uncertain if she wears a smile or a frown. "What are you thinking?"

"I know it's not Christmas yet and I'm glad we're here, spending time with my dad," she begins, her fingers fanning out over his sternum, palm at his heart. "It's just been awhile since I was here during the holidays."

Castle squeezes her shoulder beneath the blanket, cuddles her closer. Jim had invited them to stay at the cabin earlier in the week, offering the place to them as a winter hideaway for the weekend, a nice getaway from the city that Rick had been rather excited for. After the last few months, some quality time with his wife, without any watchful eyes on them, had sounded heavenly.

But the snow had grown heavy during their drive to her father's cabin, dusting along the roads, sheathing them in ice. They had arrived safely, but no one was going anywhere for a couple of days, including her dad.

Castle hadn't minded, of course. He liked Jim Beckett, admired the man, and it had been pleasant to watch Kate with her dad, to take note of the similarities between father and daughter and listen to cherished Beckett family memories being told. Even if they always ended on a somber note.

"But I'm relieved that Dad is handling it well, that he seems to be enjoying the company. Usually, when he comes here, it's to seclude himself from the holidays, the memories-"

"He's enjoyed the last couple of Christmases that he spent with us, though, didn't he?" Castle asks, sifting through their most recent Christmas that Jim had attended, remembering a smile on the man's face, a little strained but still genuine.

"He has," she assures him, tilting her head upwards to smear a kiss to his jaw. "Christmas with you has been good, for both of us. But I think for my dad, this holiday will always be…"

"A struggle," Castle supplies, feeling the nod of her head against his shoulder.

"It's better now, so much better than before, when he was - when he wasn't sober," she confesses, her voice quiet, steady yet fragile. Christmas often coaxed the memories out of her, some she had already shared with him, others that were stories he had yet to hear. Not all of her Christmas memories were pleasant, not the ones that didn't include her mother, the years that followed her death. "Better since we finally started spending Christmases together again."

"You two having a pow-wow out here?"

Castle cranes his neck to see her father shuffling down the hall, a tired smile on his lips and his robe wrapped snugly around his body. The power had gone out earlier in the night, before they had all retreated to their rooms, and spending the remainder of it camped out in front the fire in her dad's living room was sounding more appealing the more he thought about it.

"Care to join us?" Rick offers, watching the laughter flicker in Jim's gaze as he nods, the tenderness twining with amusement when his eyes linger on the two of them.

"Sure, but I'm going to make some hot chocolate first. Do you both want some?"

"Yeah, I'll help you-"

"No, stay put." Jim waves him off and starts for the kitchen, sparing a glance at Kate nestled in against him, still awake but steadily growing slack against his side. "It'll just take a second."

"Thanks, Dad," she calls out, her lashes fluttering against Castle's neck.

Rick strokes his fingers through her hair, listens to her breathing even out before Jim can return with only two mugs of hot chocolate.

"Figured she wouldn't stay awake," he chuckles, handing Rick a cup and taking a seat in the recliner. "She used to do this when she was a kid, you know. Sneak out of her room when the power was out, drag her bedding out here and hunker down in front of the fire."

Castle brushes his thumb back and forth along the curve of his wife's shoulder and sips at his hot chocolate, listens to her father tell him stories about Kate's childhood, about their family, their happiness. The longing is still there, the grief, but she was right. Christmas was still a few days away, but no longer did Jim Beckett appear to be the ragged ghost of a man Kate had described. He looked happy, content, at peace with the holiday and the memories it dredged up. Just like she did.


	18. Chapter 18

_Prompt: Continuation of chapter 17, 'sober, fire, cuddles'._

* * *

Awareness flutters through her senses at the press of a kiss to the top of her head, the low tenor of male voices floating through the air around her, but her eyes are still reluctant to open, too heavy with sleep. She feels when Castle rises from the couch, her body secure in his arms in a well-practiced habit she tries not to indulge too often.

"I'll help you shovel out the snow piled up along the porch in the morning, Jim," she listens to Castle murmur. "And maybe if Kate sleeps in for once, we can tag-team on breakfast."

Her father's chuckle is a genuine, not one of those false, strained noises she's heard so many times in the past, and she has to fight not to smile against Castle's neck, give herself away.

"Sounds like a plan, son. Though, I can't see the latter working in our favor. Katie's never been one to sleep in."

"No, she's always up before me too," Rick sighs, his fingers squeezing gently at her thigh. "We can still make her pancakes."

She shifts deeper into Castle's chest while Jim hums his amused agreement.

"In the meantime, stay warm," her father lectures, talking to Castle just as he does to her. Like family, like a son. "Don't hesitate to wake me if you need anything either."

"Will do. See you in the morning, Jim."

Castle turns, their bodies swaying, away from the warmth of the fire and towards the chilled direction of her childhood bedroom.

"Rick." Her husband pauses and Kate can feel the pat of her dad's hand at Castle's back. "Thank you."

She can sense the confusion rippling through him, but Kate knows what her father means, all too well.

"For what?" Castle inquires.

"Too many things to list this late in the night," Jim returns, his voice drifting with the soft sound of his footsteps. "But above all else? For making my daughter happy."

She swears she can feel the flutter of his heart in his chest, can envision the earnest smile on his lips. She's certain her father has told Castle those words before, but they never seem to lose their meaning.

"It's a mutual effort," he answers, his thumb strumming the rungs of her ribs.

"Glad to hear it." She can recognize the smile in her father's voice and Kate nuzzles deeper into the cove of Castle's neck, quirks her lips at the silent response of his hand squeezing her thigh again. He'd known she'd been awake all along, hadn't he? "Night, Rick."

"Until tomorrow, sir."

Castle starts back towards the bedroom, her father's halfhearted chastising for his use of 'sir' following them, eliciting a quiet chuckle from Castle's chest.

"How long have you been listening in?" he huffs after the bedroom door has closed behind him, and Kate blinks her eyes open, meets his gaze in the moonlight.

Rick deposits her on the bed, crawls in beside her while she rolls towards him. her lips stretched in an unshakeable grin.

"Since you got up from the couch," she mumbles, hooking one of her legs through his once he's joined her beneath the blankets, tugging him in close for his warmth and the pleasure of his proximity. "You're sweet."

Castle huffs at her, his smile bashful, the tips of his ears burning red and Kate caresses the cool shell, the heated cartilage.

"And I'm pretty sure my dad adores you as much as I do."

"He doesn't _adore_ me, Beckett," he mutters, scoffing softly and catching her hand at his ear. "That's not manly."

Kate rolls her eyes, dusts her fingers at his lips when he kisses her palm. "He loves you. Because you're family."

The amusement slips from his eyes, surprise flickering through the shades of blue instead, and his wonder is beautiful, but she doesn't want him to be surprised. This is something he should already know.

She never realized how similar they were in certain aspects. Never had she compared her situation to Castle's, they were on completely different spectrums when it came to loss, grief, but when it came to family… He had his mother, his daughter, a tight, impenetrable trio, and she had her dad, had him back after years of feeling more like an orphan. They had both feared letting others into those core bonds, but once they had, once they had merged, they made a rather beautiful family.

"You accepted me, and my dad, into your family, Castle," she explains, stroking her fingertips along the side of his neck, over his pulse and along his nape, dipping into the fine hairs there. "But we accepted you into ours too."


	19. Chapter 19

_Prompt: "AU snow injury"_

* * *

She feels it the moment it happens, the unnatural torque of her knee, the sudden pop of the bone that has her hissing in a burning breath of the cold mountain air before her knee gives out on her completely, sends her tumbling to the blanket of snow beneath her.

Kate groans, landing in an awkward position on her side, the skis still attached to her feet tangling up her legs and causing the throb in her right knee to intensify, flares of hot, stinging pain radiating out to sear through her bloodstream. She grits her teeth, attempts to straighten out her legs enough so that she can sit up, reach for the bindings attached to her boots, relieving her legs of the extra weight. But oh, she can't move, her knee is on fire.

Beckett curses under her breath, uses the muscles of her abdomen to heave her body into a sitting position, feeling her eyes sting with the flames the movement elicits, and retrieves her phone from the pocket of her coat. But she's at the top of a mountain and the second she attempts to call for help, she's reminded that signal is unattainable up here.

Trapped atop a mountain in Colorado on the tenth anniversary of her mother's death. Of course.

Kate blinks back her tears, shoves the phone back into her pocket and glances down to her knee, gritting her teeth through the lancing pain, the unbearable lick of flames along the bone. She isn't sure what she's done, but something is _wrong,_ damaged and crying out in agony, and she has no way of getting help.

She begins to pack snow around the injured knee through the blur of frustrated tears crowding in the corners of her eyes, the bitter cold offering little relief, but better than nothing until she can figure out a plan.

But they'll come looking for her. The instructor had assured her that they send out a search party if a ski renter doesn't return within the hour. She'll be fine. If she doesn't pass out from the sharp bursts of pain spreading from her leg to consume the rest of her.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Kate glances up, but there are white spots - when did it start snowing? - obscuring her vision, and the world is tilting a bit, the pale sky overhead blending with the pristine white covering the ground, the world around her. So much white, it's blinding.

The voice grows closer, a rich tenor that fills her ears, a soft concern, and wow, that hour must have passed quickly.

"Glad they sent you," she mumbles, blinking past the snowflakes, but she can only see pieces of the man kneeling down beside her, his eyes blue, sharp and bright like sapphires, a nice contrast to the snow. They flicker down to her knee, back to her face, and she notices those eyes flare with the concern she had heard in his voice.

"Don't worry. We're going to get help, but in the meantime, you should probably stay awake," the man says to her. "What's your name?"

"Kate," she manages, attempting to focus on his face, those gemstone eyes that seem familiar for some reason. There's something about him that she knows, recognizes, but she just can't place it. "Yours?"

"Rick," he returns, a friendly smile gracing his lips, and oh, through the blotches of snow that grow thicker with each blink of her eyes, she finally has a name to put to the face.

"Castle," she sighs the answer. "Mom loved your books."

"Hey, Kate? Kate, stay with me until the helicopter gets here, tell me about your mom," he prompts, his hand touching her shoulder, but she can't muster the strength to open her eyes again. It wouldn't make a difference; it's all gone white.

"Can't," she breathes out. "She's gone."

* * *

The next time Kate's eyes flutter open, she's no longer in the snow, no longer trapped on a mountain and freezing despite the fire engulfing her knee, but _oh_ , yeah, her leg is still in agony. The room has become familiar, she realizes as her gaze roams, as if she's seen it before, in flashes and brief bouts of consciousness.

"Miss Beckett, you're awake."

Kate shifts her gaze to the entryway, where a woman in scrubs is approaching, walking towards an IV that stands near the bed Kate is lying in. A hospital bed.

"What happened?" she rasps, memories that blur between the lines of dreams and reality filtering through her mind. She had been skiing and then something had popped in her knee, sent her down into the snow, and then… Richard Castle had appeared to help her? That last part was definitely a dream. Had to be.

"You sprained your ACL out on the slopes, honey," the nurse informs her in a placating tone, changing out the IV bag and offering Kate a sympathetic half smile. "Not sure exactly how you managed it, but Doctor Keller's best bet is that you did what most skiers do and turned wrong, nearly tore the ligament in two. You'll recover, but your lack of nourishment and dehydration aren't helping your case here, Miss Beckett."

Kate frowns down at her knee, bound in some type of cast she can't see beneath the cover of hospital sheets, but can feel encasing her leg.

"Doctor Keller will be in to see you a little later, but for now, I'm Abbey and I'll be your nurse. And now that you seem to be with us, I'm happy to inform you that you have a visitor," the nurse, Abbey, reveals with a polite smile and Kate's brow furrows in confusion.

She had taken this trip on her own, seeking solitude in her grief, to mourn her mother alone and across the country in the cabin her father used to rent out when they would vacation here as a family in the winters, distract herself with the sport of skiing, the bittersweet joy of reminiscing.

"A visitor?" she echoes.

"Mhmm, he came in with you, been here ever since. A solid six hours."

The woman narrows her eyes on Beckett, a flicker of intrigue dancing in her gaze, but Kate has no idea who she's talking about.

"I - um, okay. Sure, he can come in."

Maybe they had somehow got ahold of her father, or maybe whoever had found her on the mountain had been anxious to see if their good deed had paid off. Or perhaps-

The nurse opens the door, gesturing to someone she can't see from the confines of the hospital bed, and seconds later, Richard Castle is appearing in the doorway, giving her a smile that is far more sincere than those she's seen in interviews and magazine articles.

It wasn't a dream.

"Kate, hi," he offers, stepping past Abbey and tentatively drifting towards the side of her hospital bed. "How's the knee?"

"Oh, it's - excruciating," she replies, glancing down to the useless bone she can't even see, back to the best-selling author at her bedside. "I'm sorry, but I don't… can you tell me what happened? It's all a bit blurry."

Castle nods, searching for a place to sit, pulling up one of the chairs from the side of the room to plop down at the head of her bed. Abbey slowly disappears from the doorway, a sly smile on her face that Beckett fails to comprehend, but her attention is already shifting back to the man beginning to tell her the story of how she ended up here.

"I was skiing with my daughter, Alexis, and we saw you collapsed in the snow on the way down. I stayed with you while she skied the rest of the way down the mountain to get help," he explains, the concern simmering in his eyes and - and she remembers that, remembers thoughts of sapphires in the snow. "I tried to keep you awake, but you passed out after a few minutes. The rescue team arrived quickly, though, and I'm sorry you missed the helicopter ride to the hospital. It was pretty cool."

"You rode with me?" she questions, ignoring the urge to smile at the spark of excitement that had rippled through his eyes at the mention of a helicopter ride she had apparently been unconscious for.

Richard Castle shrugs, diverts his eyes to the floor for a moment before returning them to her knee. "Well, I didn't want to just - I wanted to make sure you were okay. At least until someone else showed up."

"No one knew I was here," she mumbles, unthinkingly, and his brow creases, more of that kindhearted worry engulfing his features. "I fly out here sometimes, when I need to clear my head."

"Oh, you're not from here?" he inquires, propping his elbow on the edge of her hospital bed, cradling his chin in his palm.

"No, New York, actually."

His entire face lights up. "Me too! Alexis and I come up here every winter to ski. She hopes you're doing okay, by the way."

Kate's lips spread into the closest thing to a smile that she's managed in a long time. She doesn't know this girl, Alexis, doesn't even know the man who camped out in the waiting room for the past six hours for a stranger either, but he has her heart feeling light, distracting her from the piercing ache in her knee, warming her cheeks.

But he's still a stranger, a man who owes her nothing yet has already given her so much of his time, his compassion, and without even knowing it, his words.

"You should probably go soon, I don't want you to miss out on your vacation, miss spending time with your daughter," Kate murmurs, noticing the subtle fall of his face, the dull of light in his eyes that she doesn't understand. "How long until you fly back to New York?"

"End of the week," Castle replies, something hopeful blooming through his gaze. "You?"

"The same," she sighs, chuckling at the hitch in his brow.

"Must be kismet."

"Fate?" she muses, catching the pleased, upwards twitch to the corners of his mouth.

"Yep, a sign from the universe that we were meant to meet. And I'd hate to defy the universe," he informs her, rising from his chair, and she's startled to feel the disappointment coil in her chest. "So, I'm going to go for the night, but if it's okay with you, I'll see you tomorrow morning, Kate."

Kate chews on her bottom lip while he awaits her answer, clinging to the part of her that tells her no, that assures her this is a bad idea, but drifting towards the little voice in her head, whispering that maybe he was right. She didn't believe in fate, in magic or signs from the universe, but she had to admit, having Richard Castle play a major role in rescuing her, making her smile on a day where she had never fathomed even allowing her lips to lift, was quite the convincing argument that maybe it couldn't hurt to take a risk, get to know him a little better.

Maybe just for today, she could believe in the possibility of kismet.

"See you tomorrow, Rick."


	20. Chapter 20

_Prompt: "Case, not home, warm"_

* * *

"I know, Pumpkin, I'm so sorry," Castle sighs, scrubbing at his eyes and scraping a hand through his hair at the sigh of his daughter's disappointment from the other line. "But I'm sure the blizzard will let up soon."

"Dad, the forecast for your area has storm warnings in place for the next 48 hours. You're not going to make it back in time," Alexis murmurs, her voice soft, understanding, but still disheartened, like a sad little girl.

"You never know, but Alexis, don't let this ruin Christmas for you. It won't be the same, but as soon as I get back, we'll do all of our traditions, have a post-Christmas feast, unwrap presents-"

"I have to wait for you to get back to open my presents?" Alexis gasps and Castle's mouth falls open in surprise, a flustered sound rising to his lips before his daughter's snickering filters through the line. "Kidding, Dad. I don't mind waiting. Gram, on the other hand, may be a different story."

Rick slumps back against the wall in relief. This would be the first Christmas in years that he would be spending away from his daughter, all because of a stupid case that had led them to Connecticut, on a field trip that was only supposed to last a matter of hours, and had instead left them trapped and in search of overnight shelter. But Alexis handled the news just as he knew she would, with the grace and maturity she's always managed to maintain despite her displeasure.

"You're a great kid, you know."

"So I've heard," Alexis chuckles. "Are you and Beckett checked into the bed and breakfast yet?"

Castle sucks in a shallow breath, glances towards the closed bathroom door, where Kate had retreated to while he had called his daughter. They were expected to lose power tonight and she had wanted a hot shower before they discussed what they were doing about their sleeping arrangements, the fact that they were sharing a room, a bed.

"Yeah, we got in right before I called you," he assures Alexis, glancing out the window near the bed, watching the fall of snow continuing to pepper the ground, building piles and coating trees.

"I'm happy you'll be spending Christmas with her at least," Alexis confesses, tugging his brow upwards in shock. He knew how his daughter felt about Kate, that she wasn't necessarily his partner's biggest fan, but ever since the bank… there seemed to be some sort of understanding in place, a hesitant acceptance from his daughter that made him breathe so much easier. "I hate that you aren't here, but if you have to spend it with anyone other than me and Gram… I'm glad it's Beckett."

"I - thanks, Alexis. I'd still prefer spending it with all of you, though."

"Maybe one day," Alexis muses, tentative but soft, open to the idea, and his heart flutters with the same kind of hope. "You'll call tomorrow morning?"

"Of course, Pumpkin. I'll check in as often as possible."

He can hear the hum of the blow dryer come alive from the bathroom and lowers his eyes to the plastic shopping bags on the small couch pushed up against the opposite wall, hopes the flannel pants and sweatshirt Kate bought for pajamas at the convenience store down the street will be warm enough.

"Good, just be safe and try to get some sleep, Dad."

"I will. You do the same, maybe look after your Gram too. You know how she can be unsupervised during the holidays," he mumbles, grinning through Alexis's instinctual chastising. "I love you, Alexis."

"Love you too. Merry Christmas Eve."

"Merry Christmas Eve," he sighs, waiting until his daughter ends the call to withdraw the phone from his ear.

The blow dryer is still humming in the bathroom and Castle looks back to the small couch. There are extra blankets piled at the foot of the bed and he snags one while he waits for Beckett to emerge, plops onto the couch and closes his eyes for just a moment.

It's just past ten o'clock, hardly late, but he's exhausted, a little heartbroken over this predicament despite the flickering flame of gratitude for the company he does have for Christmas Eve. His first one spent with the woman he loves, even if she doesn't know it, doesn't remember.

* * *

"Castle." Her voice is a burst of light in the dark, calling him to consciousness, to follow the glimmer of sound. "Rick, wake up. Can't sleep there."

Castle's brow creases at her words, but once he opens his eyes, finds her standing over him in the darkness of a foreign bedroom, he remembers.

"Power?" he mumbles, the stillness confirming that it must be gone, that it couldn't have been long since he'd dozed off on the couch. He can't sleep for long without some kind of white noise.

"Cut out while I was finishing up in the bathroom," Kate informs him, her fingers dancing at the back of his neck, coaxing his head to lift from the top of the sofa and kneading thoughtlessly at the already forming knots there. "The owners checked in when it did, said we were welcome to sleep downstairs near the fire if we wanted."

"What do you think?" he inquires, easing into a sitting position, watching her fingers trip over his shoulders in their retreat from his neck.

Beckett chews on her bottom lip in the moonlit darkness, her eyes darting back to the still made bed. He had planned to stay on the couch tonight, be a gentleman and allow her the bed, but if she preferred to migrate downstairs, closer to the promise of warmth, he could stay up here in the bed, allow a floor of space between them.

"I think we could stay up here, if it gets too cold, we can go down," she decides, standing straight and starting for the bed, drawing back the comforter, the bedsheets. "With the bedding and the extra quilts, I think we should be warm enough."

"Well, yes," he nods, rising after her, cracking his spine and rolling his neck along his shoulders. "But we?"

Beckett glances back to him over her shoulder, arching her brow at him in challenge. "Oh c'mon, we can share a bed like two mature adults."

He lifts his hands in supplication, averts his eyes as she climbs onto the bed, begins to slip beneath the covers. "Fine with me. It's you I'm worried about, Beckett."

"No need to worry, Castle. Not gonna steal your virtue," she assures him with an eye roll while he moves to join her, crawling onto the opposite side of the mattress.

"Well, I wouldn't necessarily object to-"

She knocks him with her knee beneath the sheets, turns on her side to curl away from him, and Castle eases down to lie on his back, stare at the ceiling and listen to her breathing.

"Merry Christmas, Beckett," he murmurs, knowing that midnight has yet to strike, but he still feels her shifting, easing onto her opposite side, facing him.

"Merry Christmas," she whispers in return, a trickle of sorrow running through the words and Rick casts his eyes from the ceiling, onto her, sees the apology forming in her gaze before it can even leave her lips. "I'm sorry you have to spend it like this."

Castle rolls onto his side, coming into contact that is a little too close, nearly sharing a pillow with her, but Kate doesn't flinch.

"I never should have let you tag along today, Castle. It's Christmas Eve and you had all of your traditions planned, and I was selfish-"

"Selfish?" he repeats, the protest already storming his tongue. "There's no way you could have known this would happen. I wanted to come with you, Kate. You're not responsible-"

"But I am. Today is a day you spend with your family, not riding out to crime scenes, chasing down leads with me. Working through Christmas is my tradition, not yours," she mutters, but Castle is pushing up on his elbow, shaking his head at her.

"I wanted to spend a piece of today with you, I didn't care how," he states, far more than she needs to know, should know, especially while they're _waiting_ , but it's like a broken dam, the words flooding from his mouth. "Christmas is my favorite holiday and you're right, I'm supposed to spend it with my family, with those I love. I wanted at least a few hours with you and yeah, this was unexpected, but I don't regret it."

She's lying rigid beside him, still and silent, but her eyes rage with terror, because… because he just reaffirmed that he loved her, told her something she wasn't supposed to remember, didn't he?

Oops.

"It's late," Castle sighs, allowing his elbow to collapse beneath him and descending back to lie flat on the mattress, giving her the escape from this conversation that she needs. "And we've both had a long day, so let's just try to-"

"No." He turns his head, but Kate is already inching across the empty space between them. "No, you can't just - just tell me that I'm one of those people, one that you love, and then go to sleep."

Castle blinks up at her, hovering at his side on her elbow, her chest rising with each unsteady breath to brush against his arm. "I thought - but you don't want-"

Her hand traverses across his chest, up to graze tentative fingers to his cheek. She looks so hopeless, helpless, so decimated by his words.

"I want you," she murmurs, so low he can barely hear her. "That's why I'm selfish, Castle. I wanted you today, didn't argue when you showed up at the precinct this morning, because you make this time of year better for me." Rick eases a hand beneath the opening where her arm is propped, slipping around her body to touch a gentle hand to her back, soothe experimental knuckles along her spine. Her lips lift into a tired smile and her eyes blossom with something like relief, resolution.

"That's not selfish," he finally gets out, the hand not fisted in her sweatshirt lifting to cradle her jaw, caressing the harsh angle of bone in a way he's only imagined. "That you want me - don't stop wanting me."

"Couldn't if I tried," she mumbles, one of her legs twining with his beneath the sheets. "And I've tried."

He huffs, the nervous energy accompanying confessions fading beneath the wry smile she touches to his cheek, so very close to the corner of his mouth. Her body is half draped over his, pieces aligning and setting his skin aflame through the layers of their clothes.

"Is this just - just because of Christmas?" he dares to ask, but Kate is already shaking her head, drifting in closer.

"No, it's-" Her throat bobs and her eyes flutter downwards, causing their lashes to tangle, and he imagines she must have just swallowed down any nerves she may have had left, because there is no trepidation in the kiss she lays to his mouth.

When she kisses him, a tender brush of her lips to his mouth, he thinks the waiting period may be over.

"It's because you love me."

Her hands slide beneath his shirt, eradicating his uncertainty with the burn of her fingers on his bare flesh.

"And I want you to keep me warm," she breathes and it's all he needs to finally glide his own hands beneath the fabric of her sweatshirt, savor the heat of her skin beneath his palms and the taste of her smile against his lips. And this may not be the most conventional way to spend Christmas, but oh, he wouldn't change it. Not for anything.

"Gladly."


	21. Chapter 21

_Prompt: "Star Wars Weekend"_

* * *

She's in the kitchen, preparing the snacks for the Stars Wars marathon he's been planning since he'd learned of the newest addition to the film franchise and its upcoming release. They were meeting with Alexis to see the movie tomorrow afternoon, but Rick was insisting they catch up on the last six films to prepare.

It's eight a.m. on her first day of her weekend off, but she's wearing his favorite Star Wars t-shirt, even stole his pajama pants with the logo printed in bright yellow all across the black fabric, and she's ready to curl up on the couch with him for the next few hours, listen to him recite all the lines and gaze at the television with that little boy look of wonder in her eyes.

Beckett grins to herself, pops a grape from the bowl of fruit into her mouth. She enjoys the movies, but what she's truly looking forward to is spending the day with her goofy man-child of a husband.

"Beckett," he calls to her from his office, his voice muffled, and Kate glances towards the study, just in time to see him emerging dressed head to toe in a Darth Vader costume. Mask and all.

His breathing is exaggerated, mimicking the infamous villain from the series, approaching her with dominating steps and a glowing red light saber in his hand.

"Really, Castle?" she chuckles, brushing his cape back from his shoulder once he's standing in front of her. "Going to feed me the 'I am your father' line now?"

"Eww, no," he huffs from behind the mask, his voice back to normal, tugging another laugh from her lips. "You can be Padmé."

"She dies," Beckett argues, catching the edge of his mask and drawing it upwards to prop atop his head, combing back the flop of hair from his forehead.

"We can just roleplay the parts where she's alive," he suggests and Kate rolls her eyes, drops his mask back into place. " _Fine_ , let me go change back into my pajamas so we can start the first movie."

Kate chuckles as he trudges back into the bedroom, his black cape billowing behind him, and takes the fruit bowl to the couch, grabs a few blankets to turn the sofa into a cozy nest.

"How many are we watching today?" she inquires while she places the first DVD into the player, ensures that it's connected to the projector screen he had set up for their viewings. "All of them?"

"If you think you can handle that many," Castle answers, returning to the room, back in his Stormtrooper pajamas.

Rick plops down onto the couch once she presses play, grins at her when she nestles in beside him, finds a comfortable position and sighs in contentment.

"I can handle watching all six, as long as we get an intermission at some point."

"Sure, maybe once we're halfway through?" His attention shifts from the screen, the opening credits beginning to roll, at the trace of her fingers to the neck of his shirt. His eyes flicker with realization, what exactly she planned to do with him during 'intermission'. "Or sooner."

"The sooner the better," she confirms, settling against his side, allowing him to focus on the movie, but Castle is already pressing the pause button on the remote, turning away from the screen to face her.

"You know, I think we could spare a few minutes before we start the movie. I'm too distracted by a different kind of force. And with this one, the force is strong."

Kate groans at the joke, but smiles against his lips when they cover hers. She can handle an entire weekend of Star Wars, an entire day on the couch watching movies with him, as long as she's allowed this too.


	22. Chapter 22

_Prompt: "in the end"_

* * *

 **A/N: Set within the 'in the end' universe, aka the zombie apocalypse.**

 **(Merry Christmas, Alex!)**

* * *

The winter is freezing, the wind biting, the chill that wafts through the large house herding the four of them into the den every night, huddled in front of the largest fireplace in the mansion.

Castle had wanted to make it a fun experience, build a blanket fort in front of the fire, but it was too risky to be enclosed when the need to rise, to run, could flare up at any moment. The look on his face, the smothering of his joy when she and Alexis had come to the same conclusion, had crushed her soul.

It was Christmas and no matter how hard her husband tried, there was no longer room for magic in this world.

"Kate." The rasp of his voice grabs her attention, breaching the sound of crackling firewood and the waves of the ocean outside. The snow is splattering softly against the window and through the slit in the boards of wood they have against the glass, she can see the world of white amidst the darkness outside. "Keeping watch?"

Rick disentangles from their sleeping bag on the floor next to Alexis's, careful not to jostle his daughter, and crawls up onto the nearby couch she's perched upon. She smiles at him as he joins her, brushing back the layers of her hair from her face with the healed end of his wrist, where his hand had once been. She presses her palm into the familiar caress, kisses the marred skin, the edges of the scars from where her blade had struck.

"Can't help tradition," she murmurs, allowing her eyes to flutter closed for a moment, listening to Castle hum his understanding. He knew what she meant.

Rarely did they take turns keeping watch since they had secured the Hamptons house, since the frigid air of winter had rolled in, slowed the dead outside and brought more difficulties to the any potential living threats. No longer did Kate feel the need to stay awake until dawn, trading shifts with Castle, Martha, or Alexis, but tonight, despite how much she needed the rest, she couldn't sleep if she wanted to.

"You know, it's our first Christmas together," he whispers and she peels her eyes back, feels her lips fall deeper into a frown.

She had been trying not to think about that.

"I know," she sighs, drawing his wrist down from her cheek to cradle him to her chest out of habit. She babied the healed injury more than he did these days. "I'm sorry, I wish we could have experienced a Christmas together sooner."

Rick's brow furrows, a quizzical grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "There's nothing wrong with how we're spending it now."

"Castle," she mumbles, shaking her head. "Don't try to make it seem as if this is normal-"

"It is," he argues softly. "For us, right now, this is our normal. And considering the state of the world, I think our normal is pretty great. I'm here with you, my wife, in my home, in front of a warm fire in the beginnings of Christmas morning. And we're safe, we're alive. I couldn't ask for a better gift."

Well, she couldn't exactly protest that.

"But Christmas has always been your favorite," Kate whispers, dropping his wrist and inching closer to him, tucking into his side but holding onto the calming blue of his gaze in the firelight. "And I don't want things like this to just… disappear."

"They don't have to," he assures her, always assuring her even as the world is literally falling apart around them. "We'll build new traditions, make them work no matter the circumstances. As long as I get to keep you, my family - every day feels like Christmas, Beckett."

Quiet laughter rises to her lips at the sheer joy in his eyes, his face lit up like a little boy on Christmas morning, like he really did just receive every coveted gift on his list.

"The world we knew may be gone, but we aren't. We're still us. Nothing will change that."

Her smile fades a little, the thought of how untrue that is, how a bite to a part of him where she can't cut away the infection, swirling through her mind like poison. The idea of him turning into one of the corpses that now rule the earth making her sick.

"Promise?" she rasps, even if it's silly, unethical. He can't promise her that, she can't promise the same in return, but she needs-

"I promised you always," Castle murmurs, pressing his lips to her forehead. "And there's so little I can promise you now, Kate. So little I can give, but I intend to keep that one. We don't end."

Beckett sucks in a breath, the scent of sweat and sand, of firewood and smoke, clinging to his skin, but beneath it all, she can still inhale the comforting smell of him, his aftershave and memories of home, of hopes for the future no matter the odds stacked up against them.

"We don't end."


	23. Chapter 23

_Prompt: "Christmas with kids"_

* * *

They were still a tentative thing, his betrayal from before the summer still a fresh wound, his forgiveness still being earned, but it was Christmas and after spending the morning with his family, Castle had wanted to see her, to present her with some of the homemade cookies he and Alexis had spent Christmas Eve baking together. A peace offering for the holidays for her.

But all of his calls had gone straight to voicemail, her desk at the Twelfth had been empty, and his last resort had been to contact her best friend, to learn her whereabouts, and take a cab to a children's hospital in Washington Heights. Where Kate Beckett was volunteering on Christmas.

He had been hesitant to believe it when Lanie had finally caved and revealed the truth to him after a ridiculous amount of begging (and bribing), but the M.E had been telling him the truth about Beckett's whereabouts that Christmas morning. For a few minutes, he merely watches her, sitting in a rocking chair with a little girl on her lap, reading to a small group of kids that have the attention span to listen, while others unwrap leftover presents, play with new toys. Her hair is in loose waves around her face, only gentle hints of makeup adorning her skin, enough to be complimented by the red of her sweater and the smile on her lips. She looks so soft, so content and at ease, so different from the woman he knows.

Of course, Kate eventually senses his eyes on her, lifts her gaze from the Christmas storybook balanced in her hand to catch him watching through the window. She doesn't linger, her lips moving to read aloud words he can't hear, but once the story comes to an end and the book comes to a close, she's easing the little girl off of her lap, smiling down a the few that had remained through her storytelling, excusing herself, and strides for the door.

His first instinct is to run, but she wouldn't kill him on Christmas, would she?

Oh, that murderous glint in her eye tells him she might.

"Do I even want to know how you managed to figure out where I was?" she asks him, pulling the door shut behind her and arching her eyebrow in question. "Who did you bribe this information out of? Or should I guess, because I already have a pretty good idea who-"

"I just wanted to see you," he blurts, diverting his eyes from the subtle widening of hers, down to the container of cookies still in his hands. "And I thought - I just wanted to give you these. Alexis and I made them."

Castle holds out the gingerbread cookies to her, breathes a silent sigh of relief when she accepts them after only a breath of hesitation.

"And while I'm sure it doesn't seem very believable, I wasn't trying to invade your privacy. Again. But it's kind of our first Christmas togeth- I mean, knowing each other and you're important to me, so I had just hoped-"

"Castle," she murmurs, sighs, reaching up to touch her fingers to his lips, a smile akin to the one he had seen mere seconds ago from behind the glass gracing her lips. But he's gone still, breathless at the foreign touch, the leap of his heart in his chest at the simple graze of her fingertips. "This was very sweet, thank you."

His own lips spill into a smile beneath her fingers, even as she lets them fall away and he has to resist the urge to catch them, hold them to his chest and draw her in closer.

"I can go now," he decides, choosing for once to let this be enough, to not push her for more than she's already given, but Kate surprises him, offers him a Christmas miracle of sorts, and reaches for his hand.

"If you have time, you can stay," she suggests, her gaze on their loosely clasped hands. "You'd have to check in with the staff first, but I usually try to come up here once a month, spend some time with the kids, and I already know they'd love you."

"Really?" he murmurs, glancing back to the window that offers a glimpse into the playroom filled with children, with a small decorated tree and the joy of kids on Christmas despite their circumstances. And suddenly he wants this, wants this tradition even though it's hers, wants it to be something they can someday share.

"Of course, Castle. You're pretty lovable," she muses, pinning him with a glare the second his mouth falls open. "Don't. Don't ruin it."

"I was only going to say the same about you," he assures her, brushing a kiss of his thumb to the knuckles of her hand. "You're quite lovable yourself, Detective Beckett."


	24. Chapter 24

_Prompt: "hospital christmas eve"_

* * *

He's making his way through the final course of Christmas Eve dinner with his mother and daughter, humming over the cheesecake Alexis had baked all on her own, when his phone buzzes from where he had left it on the kitchen counter. His mother narrows her gaze on him, but he excuses himself to answer the call, attempting to narrow down in his mind who could be calling him at nine o'clock on the night before Christmas.

He knows who he _hopes_ is calling, but Beckett had informed him that she would be working the Christmas shift this year, much to his chagrin, and that she would have little time to chat. Though, he had been granted a ' _Hope you're enjoying your Christmas Eve dinner, Castle_ ' text that had put a ridiculous grin on his face for the rest of the evening a few hours ago.

And huh, New York area code, but he doesn't recognize the number.

"Richard Castle," he answers anyway, huffing as his mother offers Alexis a sip from her wine glass, one that his daughter thankfully denies.

"Oh good," the voice on the other line sighs. "Richard Castle, this is Doctor Stein at New York Presbyterian. I'm calling on behalf of Detective Kate Beckett, you were listed as her emergency contact and-"

"Kate's in the hospital?" he repeats, skipping over the rest of the information, hardly able to recognize the surprised skip of his heart at the knowledge of being listed as Kate's emergency contact. All that matters is that she's in the hospital and all he can think of is the last time, when she's been hospitalized after being shot in the chest at Montgomery's funeral. "What happened? Is she okay? Is she-"

"Detective Beckett was brought in nearly an hour ago," the doctor begins to explain. "She's currently unconscious, but she suffered some superficial wounds, potential internal bleeding, but that's merely an assumption at this point. She's still undergoing examination, but I could explain more if you were-"

"I'll be there," he promises the man, already stumbling out of the kitchen, towards the coat closet near the door. He pauses at the dinner table, though, his mouth open to explain, but Martha is already waving him onwards.

"Go Richard. Call us from the cab and explain on the way," his mother urges and he's grateful for the lack of hesitation, the wealth of support and worry for the woman he loves.

Alexis doesn't look quite as encouraging, but concern shimmers in her eyes despite whatever qualms she may have in regards to Kate and she nods in agreement.

"Go Dad," she offers, as if sensing his need for the permission. "Detective Beckett shouldn't be alone in a hospital room on Christmas."

"I'll call you both as soon as I'm in the cab," he assures them, snagging his coat and sprinting out the front door, racing down the stairs because he knows he'll be unable to bear an elevator ride.

Unconscious? Wounds that were both superficial and internal? What the hell had happened to her in the five hours since he'd spoken to her last?

* * *

Castle bounds through the fourth floor hallway after he's checked in at the front desk, received directions to her room and Doctor Stein has been paged to meet him there. Cold sweat trails in rivulets down his spine, layers the back of his neck, and he resists the urge to clutch at his chest, force the thunderous stampede of his heart to slow.

"Mr. Castle," Stein, he assumes, greets him as he finally enters her room, but Rick's eyes are searching for her.

He finds Kate in the hospital bed, a sickening wave of deja vu washing through his stomach at the sight, but it's not the same. No, the skin of her forehead is mottled with a violent bruise this time, her left arm decorated in thick white bandaging, and it may be a different injury, but it still robs his lungs of air.

"She's going to recover," the doctor assures him in that calm, placating yet professional tone that Rick has never been able to find comforting. "It's been a bit busy here, as I'm sure you've noticed, but once we had the chance to assess Detective Beckett's injuries, it's been determined that aside from a few bumps and bruises, she's suffering only from a mild concussion." Only? The doctor says the diagnosis as if it's no big deal, as if the picture of her lying unconscious in a hospital bed is nothing to worry about, and Rick has to purse his lips, take a deep breath to hold himself together. Lashing out at her doctor wouldn't do any good. "She should wake at any minute, but we're going to keep her overnight, ensure the head injury doesn't escalate in any way."

"Concussion?" he echoes, stepping deeper into her hospital room, past the grey haired pole of a man beside the foot of her bed to approach her, see her up close. "How did this happen? How did she-"

"Castle?"

Rick's eyes fly away immediately from the doctor, back down to Kate and her blinking eyes, and he can't help lowering to the very edge of her hospital bed, grazing his fingers along the inside of her wrist, one of the few untouched pieces of her.

"Oh good, Detective, you're awake," Stein appraises, retrieving the clipboard from the foot of her bed and marking something down. "That's a great sign."

Kate frowns at the man and shifts her bleary gaze back to Castle, the muddled brown of her eyes slowly beginning to clear.

"Castle, what're you doing here? It's Christmas Eve," she rasps and he feels the choked noise of gratitude breach his lips before he can stop it, the relief bathing his insides.

"What are _you_ doing here?" he deflects, brushing his thumb back and forth along her metacarpal bone. "How did you end up with a concussion and a multitude of war wounds, Beckett?"

She winces at the gentle dusting of his fingertips along the mosaic painting a portion of her forehead.

"I was checking out a lead, saw our suspect robbing a Christmas charity box. Takedown mustn't have gone too smooth," she mumbles, assessing the white gauze encasing her arm, the IV attached to her hand.

"According to the fellow officers who brought you in, during the scuffle, the suspect slammed you into a nearby brick wall, nearly broke your arm and earned you a pretty big bump on the head," Stein explains, returning her chart to its place at the edge of the bed railing. "We attempted to contact your father, but there was no answer. Mr. Castle was the only other person on your emergency contact list."

Kate diverts her eyes to her lap, a kiss of pink spreading along her cheeks, but Castle merely traces the line of her pulse, reassured by the steady beat against his thumb.

"I'll have a nurse in to check on you soon, Detective. But I'm sure by tomorrow morning you'll be cleared to go," the doctor assures her. "In the meantime, Merry Christmas to you both."

Castle nods to the man as he makes his exit and before he can even return his attention to her, Kate is already speaking.

"Castle, your Christmas Eve dinner," she murmurs, her tired eyes rising to seek his. "You were telling me all about your traditions this past week-"

"Christmas traditions were the last thing on my mind when I got that call," he states, feeling his heart threaten to rip, splitting along the edges as the shame blooms through her features. "Mother and Alexis understood. Christmas is important to us, but so are you, Kate."

Her lips purse but refrain from falling into a frown and oh, how he wishes that her wall was in shambles now, that the waiting could be put on hold just for tonight, just so he could press a kiss to the uncertainty staining her lips.

"I should have warned you that I'd made you an emergency contact," she mumbles, turning her hand palm up to catch the fingers dancing at her wrist.

"I consider it a great honor," he muses, mapping the lines of her hand with the tips of his fingers. tentative in his touch. She has rarely allowed him this much touching.

"You should go back home," Kate insists, but the curtain of her lashes hide her eyes from him. "I'll be fine here."

"You really think I'm going to let you spend Christmas Eve alone in a hospital?" he scoffs, the corners of his lips quirking once her eyes cut back to him. "No way, Beckett."

"Rick, your family-"

"We were already finishing up with dinner. We save presents for Christmas morning. I'm not missing anything and they're not missing me for the night," he promises her, despite how doubtful she looks, but it's true. Mostly. "You're not getting rid of me, Kate."

"Story of my life," she grumbles, lowering her head back to the pillow, but her mouth is lifting into a smile.

And he may have been pulled away from one tradition, but he's here now, making a new one of sorts with her, hoping that one day they can spend Christmas together outside the walls of a hospital room.

* * *

He hadn't had much to work with in terms of decorations, especially since her stay was going to be less than eight hours, but when Kate's eyes peel open at six-thirty the next morning, he's managed to dress her IV pole with a Santa hat one of the nurses let him borrow and has the tiny Christmas tree that he stole from the waiting room on display near the window.

"Had to make it a little more festive in here," he explains from the chair beside her bed, and she musters a smile for him, shifts sideways and tugs back the crisp white bed sheets.

"You look exhausted, Castle," she whispers, patting the empty space beside her with her uninjured hand. "Crawl in for a few minutes."

After talking to his mother and daughter again the night before, explaining the situation and managing only a couple of choppy hours of sleep beside her hospital bed, she was right - he's absolutely exhausted. But waking on Christmas morning to see strips of sunlight slipping through the blinds to douse her in winter light has revived him, infused him with joy and a foreign spread of peace he hadn't known he'd been searching for.

"Just before you go," she adds softly and he doesn't want to think about telling her goodbye, so he unfolds from the uncomfortable chair at her bedside, carefully climbs onto the hospital bed with her.

He doesn't expect Beckett to lower her head to his shoulder once he's arranged himself beside her, doesn't expect the heavy sigh that leaves her lips to deflate her entire body, let her sink into him without a second of hesitation.

"How are you feeling?" Castle inquires, finding her hand between them, tangling their fingers and feeling his heart bloom with childlike wonder when she squeezes in response.

"Better, just tired," she admits. "May drift off again."

"That's okay, you need your rest," he murmurs, turning his head to brush his lips to the top of her head, listening to her hum in response, feeling the vibration of the noise travel through his bones. "I'll be here when you wake up."

"Gotta go home," Kate protests, but her words hold no conviction, quiet and threatening to slur together. "Home for Christmas."

"I could make a really cheesy joke right now about how home is where the heart is," he replies without thinking, counting on her drowsy, concussed state to save him from his blunder.

Beckett huffs against his shoulder. "Giving me your heart for Christmas?"

"That'd be re-gifting."

She chokes on a laugh, buries it in the fabric of his sweater and he feels his own smile grow. They're both low on sleep, rather loopy, but it doesn't change the truth - she has his heart, has claimed ownership of it for a while now, and he's certain she's been well aware of this. But if by some chance she wasn't, she definitely is now.

"It probably doesn't mean much now," Kate murmurs, her thumb trailing along the length of his index finger. "But you've got mine too."

Castle glances down, but all he can see is the top of her head, the twine of hands between their thighs, the anxious path of her thumb along his bone.

"Your - your heart?" he questions, watching her hand squeeze in affirmation.

"Still not in the best shape," she sighs, her IV riddled hand rising to curl protectively at her chest, over the still healing bullet scar. "Still healing, but it's yours, Castle. If you want it."

"As if I could ask for a better Christmas present," he huffs, the tension unraveling from her limbs, her cheeks rising with her smile, and Castle smears a tentative kiss to her forehead.

They're still waiting, he knows, but he has her heart, has the promise of more, and it's the only gift he had ever truly wanted this Christmas.


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: Written prior to the series finale and inspired by a photo found on tumblr.**

* * *

The scent of sugar cookies and the squeals of their daughter's laughter rouse Rick from sleep, drag him into a pleasant wakefulness as he listens to the sounds of Kate and Ava downstairs, harmonizing to a song about winter wonderlands. Dancing as well, he sees once he dons a robe, descends the stairs of their Hamptons home to find his wife and his youngest daughter prancing around the kitchen.

"Look who's up," Kate chuckles, abandoning their daughter, who stands proud atop a stray chair from the dining area, happily singing off key to the music blaring from Kate's phone as she delicately places a snowflake shaped cookie cutter into the layer of dough spread out in front of her. "Morning sleepyhead."

Castle smirks into the kiss she presses to his mouth, tasting sugar on her lips.

"Your fault for keeping me up so late," he mumbles, squeezing her hip, encountering a patch of flour decorating the apron strung across her waist.

"I regret nothing," Kate throws back, skirting his hands and returning to Ava, murmuring her praise over the little girl's shoulder. "Good job, buttercup. These are going to look great."

"Daddy, are you going to help us make cookies for the party tonight? Momma said we're doing gingerbread next," Ava beams, her bright blue eyes shining in the morning light filtering through the clouds of winter outside.

"You're making my favorites next?" he gasps, receiving an eager nod in reply, the french braid Kate had twined her chestnut strands into whipping over her thin shoulders. "How can I resist?"

Castle jogs back to their room to change, rolling the sleeves of his sweater up to his elbows on the way back down, accepting the Christmas themed apron Kate hands him with a huff.

"Why do I get the Santa one?"

"Because you're jolly like Santa," Ava supplies for her mother.

"Is that a polite way of calling me fat?"

"Castle," Kate scolds, buries her laugh agains this cheek and pats his stomach for good measure. "Stop being a baby and knead some dough."

Kate places their sugar cookies in the oven to bake while Rick distributes the gingerbread dough between the three of them, spreads the assortment of cookie cutters out on the counter for Ava to choose from.

"Uncle Kevin is going to love these," Ava explains, pressing the signature gingerbread man shape into her splay of dough.

"Why's that?" Castle inquires, imprinting a reindeer shape into his. He's determined to create the entire pact that makes up Santa's sleigh pulling team.

"Because he loves gingerbread! And I'm going to make his entire family," she continues, retrieving a smaller size of the same cookie cutter shape. Rick had kept an entire collection of the cookie cutters from when Alexis was younger and they had picked them up from the storage space on the drive here, soaked them in the dishwasher overnight, and it had his chest swelling to see Ava recycling Alexis's old traditions. "Aunt Jenny, cousin Sarah, cousin Bella, and baby Bob."

Laughter bubbles from Kate's lips on Ava's opposite side. "Sweetie, Uncle Ryan and Aunt Jenny don't have a baby named Bob. He doesn't have a name yet because he's still in Aunt Jenny's tummy, remember?"

"I know, Mommy. But I have to call him _something_." Ava shakes her head in exasperation, a gesture he recognizes from Kate. He hopes it'll be a few years before their daughter picks up on the eye rolls, or even worse, 'the look'.

"I don't know if I'd vote for 'Bob', but she has a point," Castle concedes, startling when Kate reaches behind their daughter's back, delivers a pinch to his side. " _Kate_ , you made me mess up Dasher."

"Mommy," Ava huffs, abandoning her gingerbread family to comfort her whining father. "Here, just stick his leg back on like this, Daddy. Don't give up on him."

Kate smothers her smile, her eyes melting into that soft gold as she watches Ava fix the broken leg of his reindeer with great care. His wife has always sworn that their daughter had been born with his heart, his love and compassion, but he would always argue that it was the opposite. The way Ava handled a broken cookie as if it was a wounded creature in need of tenderness was the way he had always witnessed Kate tend to the families of victims. Putting a piece of her heart into it every time.

"There." Ava smiles proudly at the reindeer with quite a large bulge in the back leg area. "All better."

Castle drops a kiss to the top of her head. "Thanks, sweetheart."

"I knew frosting was going to be a disaster between the two of you," Beckett sighs, but his grin only grows.

After all of the cookies had been baked and allowed the chance to cool, homemade frosting had been created, and while smears of vibrant greens, reds, and whites decorated Kate's fingers, he and Ava had the colors stained along their hands, their arms, and their cheeks. Which had mostly been his fault, but it had made the process of decorating cookies for the Christmas party even more fun and he knew that even as Kate shook her head at them, she had enjoyed every second.

Castle abandons Ava at the dining room table, the view of her finishing up with the last of the cookies clear from the kitchen, and comes up behind Kate at the sink.

"Beckett?"

She turns to glance over her shoulder and Rick quickly smears the white frosting down the tip of her nose. Kate jerks back from him, her eyes startled but her lips splitting into a sly smile as she reaches behind her, and oh no-

The burst of flour explodes from her fingertips, coats the side of his face and sticks in his hair, but he's already laughing, always delighted when she plays along, gives credence to the wonderful hints of childishness still buried within.

"I deserved that," he sighs.

Ava giggles from the table, red and green fingers rising to cover her mouth as she laughs at the two of them. Kate smothers her amusement against his lips, teasing her tongue along the seam, humming in a way that is far too arousing for the middle of the day with a kid in the room.

"Deserved that too," she murmurs, brushing her thumb through the layer of flour before stepping back, approaching their daughter with open arms.

"Let's go get you cleaned up so you can take a nap before the party."

"I don't want to nap," Ava sighs, wiping her hands on a paper towel.

"Why? Naps are the best," Castle says with a waggle of his brow for Kate.

"Just a little nap," Beckett placates their girl, narrowing her eyes at him before turning her attention to Ava, brushing the hairs that have fallen from her braid back from her face. "We've been up since early this morning, you don't want to be too tired when it's finally time for the party, do you?"

Ava mulls it over for a moment, so young but so wise, a little too wise for his liking. Alexis had been similar at this age, though, even worse, actually. His little girls always tended to grow up too fast.

"Okay Momma, are you still going to do my hair pretty?"

"Mhmm, and you'll get to wear that pretty red dress Gram picked out for you last week, remember?"

Ava wraps her arms around Kate's neck when she lifts her from the chair, spinning around to earn a peal of rich laughter before she carries her away from the mess of flour and frosting, towards the closest bathroom, chattering on about Ava's dress, about the upcoming festivities. The Christmas party would be fun, memorable and pleasant, just like it was every year that they hosted the holiday gathering in their Hamptons hideaway, but he thinks that the preparation, the sacred moments that come beforehand with his wife and his six year old, is where all of the true enjoyment lies.

"Oh and Castle?" Kate trots back down the hall, the sound of bathwater running in the distance. He catches her by the hips when she lifts on her toes, bracing her hands on his shoulders as she smudges another smile to his mouth. "Wait for me in the shower. I'll be needing a nap myself."


	26. Chapter 26

_Prompt: Beckett is angry with castle because she caught him ogling strippers?"_

* * *

 **Insert for 7x10, 'Bad Santa'.**

* * *

Irritation still swirls through her veins as she uses her key to unlock the front door to the loft, repressed indignation and possession still flaring in her chest.

He isn't actually interested in the strippers, she knows that, but that doesn't make the sight of him ogling half naked women that are not her any less infuriating.

Kate huffs and hangs up her coat, striding into their bedroom with determination. They had separated on their way home from the precinct. Castle had taken a detour to the nearest store of convenience, shopping for a new box of bandaids to keep his mob family binding paper cut from getting infected, and she had taken a detour of her own.

She knows she could hold his attention far better than any of the slutty Santa's helpers that were on that stage. And she's going to prove it to him.

* * *

"Kate, I'm home," she hears from the foyer and she quickly checks herself in the bathroom mirror, running a hand through her purposely tousled curls, making sure her lipstick hasn't smudged. "I found some Christmas bandaids, got any injuries you want to make festive?"

He's in his office now, she can hear the soft padding of his shoes on the hardwood, and she cuts the en suite's light off, waiting in semi darkness for him to finally enter the bedroom.

"Kate?"

"Hey Castle." She grins as he stops in the doorway, curiously searching for her, her satisfaction spiking once she steps out from the darkened bathroom, into the dim lighting of the bedroom, where he can see her.

"Oh… wow." His eyes are wide, electric blue, far more intrigued than he had been earlier at the strip joint, and she saunters up to him, stopping just out of reach. "You're um, already very festive it seems."

"Just thought I'd embrace the holiday spirit," she shrugs, brushing her fingers along the soft white trim of the lacy red babydoll.

"So, is this the part where you ask me if I've been naughty or nice?" he murmurs, gaze lingering on the knee high leather of the black boots she wears to complete her Santa themed attire.

"No, I already know you've been naughty," she hums, hooking her thumb under the thin strap holding the red velvet bra in place.

"I have?"

Kate rolls her eyes and stalks closer, extending one hand to curl around the belt of his pants.

"You had a wandering eye earlier," she reminds him, jerking him forward and watching with pleasure as his eyebrows hitch and his hands flutter uncertainly along her waist.

"Kate, I wasn't really-"

"Shh," she silences the reassurance bubbling on his tongue, pressing a finger to his lips and grinning at the way the touch has his eyes sparking like a blue flame in the darkness of the bedroom. "Just let me recapture your attention."

Castle groans at the insistent press of her scantily clad body when she steps into him, keeping one set of fingers coiled in his belt while the others travel up to toy with the soft skin of his ear, but he quickly drops his forehead to meets hers, finding her eyes for a moment of sincerity.

"No need to do any recapturing, Beckett," he murmurs, gliding his hands underneath the fitted red lace, making her breath catch. And she sees the arousal burning bright in his eyes, but it's more than that. There's always more. "You've always got my full attention."

He lifts her then, using the hands palming her backside to hoist her into his arms and carry her to the bed.


	27. Chapter 27

_Prompt: "Which half of your otp is singing 'All I Want For Christmas Is You' 24/7 and which half hates it but is also lowkey charmed by it?"_

* * *

 **A/N: Set mid season 2.**

* * *

He's been driving her crazy since the first day of December had rolled in, since snow flurries had started to fall and Christmas ads had plagued every channel, every corner of the city. The music was always a constant too, on the radios, the television, the streets, but it had been personally inescapable for her.

If this holiday was her hell, Castle following her around singing 'All I Want For Christmas Is You' was the soundtrack.

"Castle," she growls for the millionth time, tightening her grip on the steering wheel. "Stop. It."

He pauses in his humming from the passenger seat, glances to her with a grin and an amused arch of his eyebrow.

"Oh, come on, Beckett," he needles her. "It's Christmas."

"It's December 17th," she argues, swerving around a too slow car in front of her, trying to get them through the worst of afternoon traffic. "And you've been singing that song to some capacity since the day after Thanksgiving."

"It's my favorite," he shrugs, his smug grin softening to a smile as he turns his gaze to the window. "When Alexis was a baby, I used to sing it to her like a lullaby while I rocked her to sleep."

Oh. Well, that… made it a little less annoying, a bit more sweet, but still-

"Of course, when she got older, she became a bigger fan of 'Rudolph The Red Nose Reindeer' and 'Frosty the Snowman', but I still think of that time as soon as I start hearing the Christmas music every year and - this is too much information that you don't need," Castle chuckles, surprising her with the sudden self-deprecation.

It's so easy to forget that this man, the best-selling author and notorious playboy, is also a single father who had raised a little girl on his own. And not only that - he had loved her, loved his daughter enough to make up for the mother that Kate has learned was never really there. He loved her enough to make Christmas special even when she was too young to actually understand the holiday.

"No," she murmurs, chewing on her bottom lip to ignore the swell of warmth in her chest at his explanation. He's still Castle, still the man who had gone behind her back to look into her mother's case, still the irritating shadow that followed her around, weaseled his way into her life, made it a little more fun. "You're fine, and you can - keep singing your song, just limit it to once a day maybe?"

Castle beams at her from his seat, just as the Twelfth blessedly comes into view, and she presses a little harder on the accelerator. She _hates_ when he looks at her like that.

"So is my pass for the day already used up?"

" _Yes_ ," she mutters, pulling into the parking garage, huffing in exasperation as Castle releases a quiet laugh at her expense.

She's grateful for the dimness of the garage, how it hides the way the corners of her mouth quirk along with his.

* * *

Beckett is in the break room on Christmas Eve, one of the few officers left on the dreaded holiday shift, but she doesn't mind, always volunteering to take it. She had no family to celebrate with, no traditions to honor, so she claims this shift every year to allow those who did to have this treasured 24 hours off.

Watching over the city with the hollowness in her heart like a gaping hole in her chest is her only Christmas tradition left.

She's in the middle of a battle with the espresso machine, slowly attempting to brew a decent cup of coffee, absentmindedly humming to herself as she pours the milk. Castle isn't here, has no idea she's working today, and it's better this way. If he knew she was spending her holiday working, he'd proffer up some speech about Christmas spirit and magic and all kinds of things she could no longer relate to.

But on a day that now holds so much sorrow for her, she almost finds herself missing his presence, the annoying holiday cheer he so happily spreads.

Almost.

She doesn't even realize what she's doing, what song she's humming under her breath, until she hears a gasp from behind and startles so harshly she nearly burns her hand.

"Castle," she hisses, lifting her scorched thumb to her mouth as she spins to glare at him, already knowing it had to be him because _who else_?

Sure enough, he's standing in the doorway with a tall travel mug and a metal tin decorated with dancing gingerbread men in his hands, a dumbstruck smile on his face until he notices the kiss of steam she had sustained.

"I'm so sorry," he says, striding towards her and setting the apparent gifts he's come bearing on the break room table. "Here, let me look-"

"No, what are you even doing here?" she grumbles, tugging her hand from his grasp when he cradles her wrist in his surprisingly warm fingers. "You're supposed to be at home, celebrating Christmas with your family."

"I am, but Ryan mentioned you were working today," he reveals with a narrowed look that she rolls her eyes in response to. "And don't worry, I'm not staying. Just wanted to bring a couple of things by."

Her eyes venture over his shoulder to the holiday themed travel mug, the tin of cookies.

"Alexis and I were baking cookies last night, sort of a yearly tradition, and we always have extra, so I figured I'd bring you some. You like gingerbread?"

"I - yeah, but Castle, you didn't have to bring me anything," she murmurs, hating how he continues to soften her, how the idea of him thinking of her on Christmas Eve, trudging out of his warm loft and into the bitter December chill to bring her holiday treats, has her heart fluttering a little.

"Well, I knew you wouldn't let me buy you a real Christmas present," he shrugs, and she had the annoying urge to drift forward, gravitate towards him and that tentative smile he wears.

Nervous again, like he had been that day in the car, when he'd told her about one of the traditions he shared with Alexis, when he had let single-handedly peeled away another layer for her to see without ever meaning to.

"I - I didn't get you anything," she offers inanely, but Castle simply waves her off.

"Beckett, I just heard you humming _All I Want For Christmas Is You_. That is gift enough," he grins and Kate huffs, shoves on his shoulder.

"It's all your fault. You practically ingrained it into my head," she mutters, but Castle is stepping in closer, a teasing glimmer in his eyes.

"Are you sure? Because if you were really thinking about me and your true desires for the holiday, I wouldn't hold it against you. Promise," he states, but there's a husk to his voice, a challenge in the arch of his brow.

And she knows that he isn't expecting her to take the bait, to play into his flirting, but that's exactly why she does it. At least, that's what she tells herself.

"You wouldn't?" she murmurs, allowing the warmth in her blood to simmer, heat through her system, her voice.

She smirks when his adam's apple bobs, when his eyes widen as hers flick to his mouth and back.

"I - um, no," he stammers, but he's growing bolder, brushing his knuckles to her hip even as his hand shakes. "You want me for Christmas, Kate Beckett, you can have me."

A laugh trembles in her throat, but he's staring at her lips, not leaning in, but offering her such a wonderful invitation and… would it be so bad if she broke tradition just this once by enjoying at least a few moments of this typically forlorn holiday?

"Make my wish come true," he teases, some of that spark back in his eyes, his lips twitching smugly in the corners, and Kate arches on the toes of her boots, wipes the amusement from his mouth and steals the breath from his lungs with the fuse of her lips.

Castle goes still against her, but only for a moment, then he's wrapping around her, his hands roaming at her back while hers ascend to his jaw, claim his cheeks. He tastes like gingerbread and peppermint, the scent of pine clinging to his skin, and she hums at the rise of his hand to the side of her throat, the brush of his thumb to that sensitive spot behind her ear.

He doesn't confine her, his hold on her loose despite the want she can taste on his tongue as it strokes along hers, and she rewards him with a nip of her teeth, moans at the retaliation in his hips.

"Wow," he breathes when they're forced to part for air, the heat of his exhale coating her lips. "Merry Christmas indeed."

Kate huffs and shakes her head, their noses colliding at the motion, and she expects the riot of panic to come, wage through her, but this moment, standing in the deserted break room with him on Christmas Eve, is surprisingly peaceful.

A moment she doesn't necessarily want to end, but-

"You should go," she mumbles, resting her forehead against his before the protest can bloom on his swollen lips. "You've got Christmas and I'm working."

Castle sighs, but nods his understanding, angles her head with the hand curved at her nape to seal one more kiss to her mouth, suckling on her bottom lip until she's gasping, pushing him away.

"Castle."

"Okay, I know, just - wow," he repeats, his eyes hazy with arousal that flickers like falling flakes of snow through his gaze. "Can we - do I - again?"

"Again?" she echoes with the amusement unable to be contained as it bubbles to her lips.

"I know not - not right now, but-"

"I have New Year's off," she murmurs, the nerves in her stomach finally making their appearance, but Castle lights up like a Christmas tree.

"That would be perfect. Perfect Christmas, perfect New Year's, I'm having an incredible holiday season."

Kate chuckles and scrapes a hand through her hair, drifts past him for the gifts he had come bearing on the table.

"Ah and that's a peppermint mocha latte, along with the gingerbread cookies I mentioned," he explains as she opens the tin out of curiosity, suppressing her grin at the pile of cookies decorated with white icing and various facial expressions inside. "Figured this could suffice for this year."

Her eyebrows crease, but a smile – barely there and hardly noticeable – twitches at the corners of her lips as he approaches.

"You sound pretty sure you'll still be around next Christmas," she muses, plucking a cookie from the tin.

"Well, writing best sellers takes time, Detective. And research. Lots of research," Castle insists. " _And_ inspiration, which - as you so wonderfully just proved - you provide me with abundances of."

"Go home, Castle," she mutters as she takes a bite into a gingerbread man's head, ignoring the delight shimmering through his gaze at her acceptance of his Christmas treats as he walks backwards towards the door.

"Merry Christmas, Kate."

She releases a sigh under her breath as he leaves, his humming of that damn song as he strolls towards the elevator no longer so unpleasant when the press of his lips is still buzzing like electricity through her veins.


	28. Chapter 28

_Prompt: "I get caught with one of my friends under the mistletoe and you literally sprint from across the room to shove them out of the way and take their spot" AU._

* * *

 **A/N: Set season 4.**

* * *

She had arrived late to Castle's Christmas party despite her best efforts to be out of the precinct by five, but the look on his face told her that her prolonged arrival didn't matter, that the wait had been worth it.

The way his eyes had roamed her frame had given her all of the reassurance she needed the moment she stepped inside, wearing the deep red cocktail dress, nothing too fancy or flashy, but a subtle kind of sexy that had him gravitating across the extravagantly decorated expanse of the loft before she could shed her coat.

"Detective, you look absolutely stunning this evening," he'd murmured, lips just a breath away from brushing her ear as he'd taken over his customary duty of relieving her of her outerwear, hanging it in his closet.

"Pretty dapper yourself, Castle," she'd hummed, touching her fingers to the lapel of his blazer, the edge of his red tie, unintentionally matching hers. Of course.

Kate remains near him for the majority of the evening, not by conscious effort, still mingling with all of their friends, from both his circles and hers, from the precinct and high society crowds, and she relishes in the chance to enjoy this night off, the excuse for the freedom that this year's Christmas holiday provides her with.

She hasn't enjoyed Christmas in years, nearly twelve now, but when he's around, she almost believes she can. Even if it's only for a few hours.

Naturally, Lanie takes note of it all.

"Cozying up to Castle for Christmas, huh?" her friend teases, sidling up next to Beckett by the gorgeously lit tree, handing her one of the special holiday drinks from the bar, a candy cane protruding from the champagne flute.

Kate accepts the beverage with a roll of her eyes.

"I see your not taking the night off."

Lanie arches an eyebrow. "From what?"

"Torturing me," Kate mutters, lifting the glass to her lips for a small sip, huffing when Lanie bumps her hip.

She shoots Kate a smirk, her gaze wandering back out into the crowd, snagging on something that has her elbowing Kate's side.

"Uh oh."

"Hmm?" Kate follows Lanie's gaze, finding Castle at the end of her path, standing next to one of Beckett's closest friends, Rick and Maddie both glancing upwards.

Everything freezes for just a split second the moment Beckett realizes the placement of the mistletoe, dangling right above his - and her beautiful, blonde, childhood best friend's - head in the doorway of his office.

Of course, she had been pleasantly surprised to see Madison Queller at his party, shooting him a grateful look for having the thought of inviting her. It's been far too long and after they'd chatted a bit since Kate had arrived, they had even made plans for lunch for the first week after New Year's.

Maddie kissing Castle prior to that is not part of the plan.

"Girl, go get your man," Lanie whispers and Kate rolls her eyes, but passes her drink over, grateful when she accepts it without a word, probably pleased by the way Kate begins striding across the room.

But she isn't thinking about Lanie, or anyone else really, only that she is not letting Castle kiss someone else for Christmas.

She isn't the jealous type, she's really not - at least that's what she continues to tell herself - but she has waited too long and fought too hard to watch one of her friends lock lips with the man she… is essentially in love with, even if it is nothing more than a friendly mistletoe kiss.

Castle must sense her, hear the distinct click of her heels, because his head turns, Madison's following suit, and she catches the smirk on Maddie's red lips before her friend takes a resolute step back.

 _You're hot for Castle._

Just in time for Kate to reach him, cup his face in her hands, lay claim to his mouth.

* * *

One second, he's staring back at Beckett's childhood best friend in amusement as they stand motionless under mistletoe, the next, he's got an armful of Kate, the press of her lips better than any Christmas gift on his hypothetical list.

He draws her in, shuffling backwards into his office, out of view, and feels the tension in her spine drain, her chest meeting his and her hands trailing to comb through his hair, settle at his nape. But all too soon, she's pulling back, looking up at him with eyes that are hazy and liquid gold, lips that have been thoroughly kissed, but for not long enough.

Her gaze flicks to the mistletoe no longer above their heads, glimmering with a bright red bow above his office doorway, and Rick smirks.

"We weren't going to kiss, you know?" he murmurs, using the shield of the bookshelves and shifting them a little to avoid the prying eyes of Lanie from across the room, the delighted grin Madison wears as she saunters off to join Kate's other best friend.

"What're you talking about? I was just walking this way and happened to end up under the mistletoe," Kate muses, her hands slipping down to curl at his biceps, but his remain planted firmly on the bones of her hips.

He gapes at her, but she merely grins, that cheeky smile that shows him a hint of tongue, and relaxes further into his hold.

"I know we're waiting," she continues, quieter, deflating his joy of tasting her lips just a little, but then her mouth is dusting along his jaw. "But it's - I don't want-"

"I don't want to kiss anyone but you," he blurts, words he know she can't manage without strangling herself with them, and she sucks in a breath against his skin. "Even if it's just under the mistletoe. I'm waiting for you, Kate. Only you."

"Castle," she breathes, her voice suddenly so sorrowful, her lashes fluttering against his cheek. "I don't want you to just be stuck waiting. Not… not alone, anyway."

"Suggesting we wait together?" he hums, their conversation bordering on nonsensical, but her eyes flicker with light at the words, with hope. "What does that entail?"

Kate glances over her shoulder, nudging him deeper into his office with her hips, rolling her eyes at the waves and winks she receives from Lanie and Madison before she blocks them both from view.

"More of this?" she murmurs, tilting her chin, her lips brushing his with the words, and Castle raises his hands to her face, cradles the slashes of her cheekbones in his palms.

"Even without the mistletoe?" he breathes, barely breathing at all, scared to disturb this moment of intimacy in his office, to pop the bubble they've stumbled into.

He wants her, for Christmas, for the New Year, for always. He wants to tell her, kiss her senseless until she realizes she'll never have to be jealous again, but Kate's breath is washing hot and wonderful over his lips, his flesh tingling with the electricity, the anticipation of her mouth on his.

"No mistletoe necessary."

* * *

 **A/N: That's going to be all for this year, but thank you to everyone who took the time to read through this assortment of prompt fills and to those who also provided me with such greatly appreciated feedback and continuous kindness. It means more than you know.**


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